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THE  JOURNAL  OF  AN  EXPEDITION 
ACROSS  VENEZUELA  AND  COLOMBIA 
1906-1907 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2018  with  funding  from 
Getty  Research  Institute 


https://archive.org/details/journalofexpeditOObing 


The  Journal  of  an  Expedition 
Across  Venezuela  and  Colombia 

1906-190 7 


AN  EXPLORATION  OF  THE  ROUTE  OF  BOLIVAR’S 
CELEBRATED  MARCH  OF  1819  AND 
OF  THE  BATTLE-FIELDS 
OF  boyacA  AND 
CARABOBO 


BY 

Hiram  Bingham,  Ph.D.  (Harvard),  F.R.G.S. 

Lecturer  on  Latin  American  History,  Yale  University 


WITH  MAP  AND  133  ILLUSTRATIONS  FROM  PHOTOGRAPHS  TAKEN  BY 

THE  AUTHOR 


NEW  HAVEN,  CONN. 

YALE  PUBLISHING  ASSOCIATION 

LONDON 

T.  FISHER  UNWIN 

igog 


Copyright,  1909,  by 

Yale  Publishing  /Association 

(incorporated) 


Entered  at  Stationers’  Hall,  London 


All  rights  reserved 


PREFACE 


For  the  past  eight  years  I  have  been  collecting  material  for  a 
history  of  the  South  American  Wars  of  Independence  and  for  biog¬ 
raphies  of  San  Martin  and  Bolivar,  the  chief  heroes  of  that  era.  As 
I  worked  on  the  life  of  Bolivar  it  appeared  to  me  to  be  particularly 
difficult  to  form  a  just  estimate  of  his  achievements;  I  could  find  no 
maps  of  his  battle-fields  and  few  trustworthy  accounts  of  the  scenes 
of  his  greatest  activity. 

In  1819  Bolivar  conducted  an  army  across  Venezuela  and  Colom¬ 
bia  by  a  road  that  was  deemed  to  be  impassable.  The  official  des¬ 
patches  state  that  many  of  the  soldiers  succumbed  to  the  hardships 
of  the  march  and  that  all  the  saddle  and  pack  animals  died  on  the 
way.  The  result  was  the  permanent  expulsion  of  Spanish  power 
from  Colombia.  It  has  been  maintained  by  Spanish-American 
historians  that  this  march  of  Bolivar  and  his  army  was  as  wonderful 
as  the  more  famous  marches  of  Hannibal  and  Napoleon.  I  found  it 
to  be  almost  impossible  to  form  an  intelligent  estimate  of  the  actual 
obstacles  that  were  overcome  by  the  Liberating  Army,  for  the  region 
is  not  one  that  is  easily  visited  and  the  published  descriptions  of  it 
are  very  meagre. 

I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  if  I  wished  to  understand  this  period 
in  the  history  of  South  America,  it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to 
undertake  an  expedition  that  should  have  for  its  object  not  only  a 
study  of  the  country  where  Bolivar  lived  and  fought,  and  a  visit  to 
the  scenes  of  his  most  important  battles,  Carabobo  and  Boyaca,  but 
also  an  exploration  of  the  route  of  his  most  celebrated  campaign. 
Accordingly  I  left  New  York  about  the  middle  of  November,  1906, 
spent  a  fortnight  in  the  islands  of  Vieques,  Porto  Rico,  and  Curasao, 
and  reached  Caracas  early  in  December.  Here  I  was  joined  by  Dr. 
Hamilton  Rice,  F.R.G.S.,  who  had  some  years  previously  experi¬ 
enced  the  difficulties  of  travel  in  South  America  by  going  from 


VI 


PREFACE 


Quito  to  Para  by  way  of  the  Napo  and  the  Amazon,  and  whose  love 
of  exploration  led  him  to  join  me  in  this  enterprise. 

We  spent  a  month  in  Caracas,  ten  days  on  the  battle-field  of 
Carabobo,  and  four  months  crossing  the  Llanos  and  the  Andes  to 
Bogota,  following  the  route  taken  by  Bolivar  in  1819.  The  larger 
part  of  our  journey  was  through  regions  about  which  little  has  been 
written,  so  that  it  seems  advisable  to  publish  the  journal  of  the 
expedition  in  detail.  Although  my  training  has  been  that  of  an 
historian,  rather  than  that  of  a  naturalist,  I  hope  that  the  record  of 
my  observations  may  nevertheless  prove  to  be  of  some  value  in  the 
fields  of  geography  and  ethnology.  In  the  preparation  of  my  notes 
of  scientific  observations  for  publication  I  have  received  much  assist¬ 
ance  of  the  greatest  value  from  Professor  Herbert  Gregory  of  Yale 
University. 

I  desire  to  acknowledge  my  great  indebtedness  to  Secretary,  now 
Senator,  Root,  and  to  the  other  officials  of  the  Department  of  State, 
and  to  many  members  of  the  Diplomatic  and  Consular  Services  for 
favours  without  which  the  undertaking  would  have  been  impracti¬ 
cable.  To  President  Rafael  Reyes  of  Colombia  and  the  officials  of 
the  Colombian  Government,  who  took  pains  to  facilitate  in  every 
way  the  success  of  the  expedition,  to  the  Hon.  Jacob  Sleeper,  Major 
William  Heimke,  Francis  Stronge,  Esq.,  Don  Carlos  Stelling,  Mr. 
William  Phelps,  Dr.  Isaac  Capriles,  Sr.  Jorge  Pombo  and  many 
others,  who  made  me  welcome  in  their  homes  and  gave  me  assistance 
and  advice,  I  am  under  a  lasting  debt  of  gratitude.  I  only  regret 
that  it  is  impossible  to  enumerate  all  whose  kindness  added  to  the 
pleasures  of  the  journey. 

This  volume  has  been  printed  during  my  absence  as  a  delegate 
to  the  Pan-American  Scientific  Congress  held  at  Santiago  de  Chile, 
in  December,  1908.  The  oversight  of  the  proof  was  assumed 
by  my  friend,  George  Parker  Winship,  of  the  John  Carter  Brown 
Library,  who  has  thereby  placed  me  under  obligations  which  only 
those  will  fully  appreciate  who  have  been  in  a  similar  position. 

Hiram  Bingham. 


New  Haven,  Connecticut. 


CONTENTS 


Caracas  .... 

CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

Valencia  and  Carabobo  . 

CHAPTER 

II 

•  25 

Carabobo  to  Barinas 

CHAPTER 

III 

•  37 

CHAPTER 

From  Barinas  to  the  Apure  River 

IV 

71 

From  the  Apure  River  to 

CHAPTER 

Arauca 

V 

.  92 

Arauca  to  Fimbo 

CHAPTER 

VI 

1 16 

El  Limbo  to  Pore  . 

CHAPTER 

VII 

.  .  148 

Pore  .... 

CHAPTER 

VIII 

1 6,3 

Pore  to  Nunchia 

CHAPTER 

IX 

.  .  172 

Nunchia  to  the  Paramo  of 

CHAPTER 

Pisva  . 

X 

184 

From  the  Paramo  of  Pisva 

CHAPTER 

TO  Pantano 

XI 

de  Vargas 

201 

vii 


CONTENTS 


viii 

CHAPTER  XII  PAGE 

From  Pantano  de  Vargas  to  Boyaca  .  .  .  .  .  .216 

CHAPTER  XIII 

From  the  Bridge  of  Boyaca  to  Bogota  . . 224 

CHAPTER  XIV 

Bogota  ......  235 

CHAPTER  XV 

Bogota  to  Cartagena  .  .  251 

Appendix  A.  Historical  Sketch  .......  269 

B.  Battle  of  Carabobo  .......  276 

C.  Temperature  and  Weather  .....  280 

Index  . . 285 

Map  of  Route  from  Caracas  to  Bogota  .  In  pocket  at  end  of  book 


CHAPTER  I 


Caracas 

December  4th,  1906.  This  morning  I  arrived  at  La  Guayra,  the 
seaport  of  Caracas.  The  Venezuelan  officials  had  been  informed 
of  the  object  of  the  expedition  and  courteously  passed  my  outfit 
through  the  customs  house  without  examination.  A  few  hours  after 
landing  I  left  La  Guayra  on  the  little  train  that  connects  the  port 
with  Caracas,  and  greatly  enjoyed  the  ride  over  this  wonderful  rail¬ 
road.  With  many  curves  it  winds  up  the  slopes  of  a  great  moun¬ 
tain,  giving  one  an  inspiring  view  of  the  Caribbean.  Caracas  is  only 
five  miles  from  La  Guayra  as  the  crow  flies,  but  as  it  is  nearly  three 
thousand  feet  above  the  sea  it  takes  thirty  miles  of  railroad  to  climb 
around  the  intervening  mountain  and  reach  the  beautiful  valley  in 
which  lies  the  capital  of  Venezuela. 

Mr.  Jacob  Sleeper,  the  American  Charge  d’Affaires,  met  me  at 
the  station  and  most  hospitably  invited  me  to  be  his  guest  at  the 
American  legation.  The  house  is  a  charming  one,  built  around 
two  attractive  courts  or  patios.  It  is  the  property  of  General  Matos, 
who  financed  the  last  serious  revolution  in  Venezuela  and  spent  two 
million  dollars  (so  it  is  reported)  in  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  over¬ 
throw  General  Castro’s  Government. 

December  gth.  I  have  been  suffering  from  dengue  fever,  which 
I  picked  up  in  Porto  Rico  on  the  way  down  from  New  York.  A 
local  doctor  suspected  me  of  having  yellow  fever,  sent  me  to  bed 
soon  after  my  arrival  and  since  then  he  has  been  trying  to  starve  me 
to  death.  I  feel  hardly  strong  enough  to  walk  across  the  street  and 
whether  I  shall  be  able  to  cross  Venezuela  seems  pretty  doubtful. 
However,  Rice  arrived  today  from  New  York,  is  very  optimistic 
and  says  all  I  need  is  plenty  of  good  food. 

It  seems  strange  not  to  be  able  to  send  a  cable  anywhere.  Some 
time  ago  the  French  Cable  Company  got  into  difficulty  with  the 


2 


VENEZUELA 


Caracas  1 


Venezuelan  Government  and  since  then  there  has  been  no  cable 
office  nearer  than  the  Dutch  Island  of  Curasao.  As  a  result  the  news 
of  the  outside  world  which  is  printed  in  the  papers  is  frequently  a 
week  or  ten  days  old. 

December  io th.  We  hear  that  the  rains  on  the  Llanos  have 
been  extraordinarily  late  this  year,  so  that  we  shall  not  be  able  to  go 
directly  south  across  the  plains  to  Achaguas,  where  Bolivar  assembled 
his  soldiers  in  i8iq. 

During  the  rainy  season  the  central  Llanos  are  largely  under 
water  and  it  is  almost  impossible  to  travel  except  on  the  rivers. 
Accordingly  we  have  decided  to  go  west  a  hundred  miles  by  rail  to 
Valencia,  thence  south  to  Carabobo,  the  most  famous  battle-field  in 
Venezuela,  and  from  there  southwest,  skirting  the  western  edge  of 
the  Llanos  until  it  is  feasible  to  descend  to  the  lower  plains.  We  hope 
to  reach  Bolivar’s  route  near  the  Apure  River  not  far  from  Achaguas. 
Fortunately  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Andes,  along  which  we  must  go, 
is  little  known  and  well  worth  visiting. 

December  12th.  We  interviewed  two  negroes  today  who  are 
willing  to  share  the  hardships  of  the  journey.  Josh  Obadiah  Nero, 
born  and  raised  in  St.  Kitts,  has  lived  in  Venezuela  for  the  past 
fifteen  years,  and  speaks  both  English  and  Spanish  fluently.  He 

1  The  panorama  view  of  Caracas  from  the  south,  at  the  top  of  these  pages,  was 
taken  from  the  hills  just  above  Castro’s  new  villa.  The  Cajigal  observatory  is  on 
the  top  of  the  hill  on  the  extreme  left.  Lower  down  that  hill  is  the  Calvario  Park. 
In  the  foreground  at  the  left  is  the  Municipal  Electric  Light  plant.  The  conspicu¬ 
ous  white  building  is  the  new  National  Theatre,  built  by  Castro.  The  peak  at  the 
right  above  the  clouds  is  the  Silla. 


CARACAS 


3 


from  the  South. 


has  been  in  the  interior  and  is  ready  to  qualify  as  chief  cook.  The 
other  one,  Richard  Harvey,  comes  from  Trinidad,  speaks  almost  no 
Spanish,  but  has  a  pleasant  face  and  is  anxious  to  do  whatever  is 
wanted  of  him.  We  have  tried  to  discourage  them  by  enlarging  on 
the  possible  difficulties  and  dangers  of  the  undertaking,  but  they 
have  both  been  out  of  work  so  long  that  they  are  ready  for  almost 
any  employment.  They  little  dream  what  is  ahead  of  them. 

December  13th.  One  rarely  sees  any  disorder  in  the  streets. 
Policemen  are  numerous.  They  carry  carbines  and  are  well  dressed 
in  blue  uniforms.  The  soldiers  wear  a  cheap  quality  of  khaki  with 
helmets  to  match.  They  are  kept  pretty  closely  confined  to  their 
barracks,  of  which  there  are  several  large  ones  in  the  city.  The 
greatest  pest  on  the  streets  are  the  beggars. 

Caracas  seems  to  show  a  mixture  of  Spanish  and  French  in¬ 
fluences.  One  sees  a  great  number  of  little  shops  where  provisions 
are  sold  in  very  small  quantities.  On  every  hand  may  be  encountered 
the  tiny  establishments  of  tailors,  barbers  and  druggists.  Their 
large  number  and  their  small  size  constantly  bring  to  mind  the 
Southern  European  cities.  The  coinage  is  based  on  the  French 
system,  the  unit  of  value  being  the  bolivar  which  is  worth  about 
twenty  cents.  There  is  likewise  a  Pantheon,  a  direct  imitation  of 
Paris.  The  police  call  to  mind  the  Parisian  gendarmes.  The 
public  carriages  are  little  victorias  such  as  one  sees  in  Paris,  except 
that  here  it  is  more  customary  for  them  to  have  two  horses  than  one. 
Even  the  coach  fare  is  the  same,  although  there  is  one  local  peculiarity 
that  I  do  not  remember  having  encountered  elsewhere.  There  are 


4 


VENEZUELA 


Caracas  1 


three  grades  of  hacks,  all  equally  comfortable.  The  distinction  is 
one  that  appeals  solely  to  the  imagination.  The  lowest  grade  is 
distinguished  by  having  a  driver  in  citizen’s  dress  and  numbers  on 
the  carriage  lamps.  The  next  grade  has  a  driver  in  semi-livery; 
while  the  most  expensive  of  all  carry  no  number  on  their  lamps  and 
are  driven  by  Jehus  in  full  livery.  For  this  luxury  one  is  charged 
double  the  regular  tariff. 

There  is  a  system  of  tram  cars,  primitive  affairs  drawn  by  mules. 
Although  unable  to  carry  more  than  a  score  of  passengers,  each  has 
its  conductor  as  well  as  a  driver. 

The  only  people  in  Caracas  who  seem  to  be  in  a  hurry  are  the 
hack  drivers.  Most  of  the  men  on  the  streets  carry  walking  sticks 
and  appear  to  have  little  to  do.  There  are  always  dozens  of  loafers 

!  The  two  views  at  the  top  of  the  page  give  a  telephoto  panorama  of  Caracas  from 
the  north.  On  the  left  in  the  foreground  is  a  small  reservoir  recently  built  by  Castro. 
In  the  centre  of  the  foreground  may  be  seen  the  old  road  that  goes  over  the  moun¬ 
tain  to  La  Guayra.  It  passes  near  the  spot  from  which  the  picture  was  taken.  The 
dome  in  the  centre  of  the  picture  is  the  National  Capitol.  The  conspicuous  white 
building  to  the  right  of  the  centre  is  the  Municipal  Theatre.  Above  this  and  a  little 
to  the  right  is  the  villa  Zoila,  Castro’s  new  palace.  From  the  hill  above  this  the 
other  panorama  of  Caracas  was  taken.  The  triumphal  arch  on  the  wooded  hill  on 
the  right  was  built  by  General  Crespo.  At  the  left  of  the  wooded  hill  near  its  base 
may  be  seen  the  roof  of  the  bull  ring.  In  the  valley  at  the  extreme  right  of  the  pic¬ 
ture  are  the  roofs  of  the  railroad  station  where  trains  arrive  from  La  Guayra  and 
also  from  Valencia. 


CARACAS 


5 


from  the  North. 


in  the  vicinity  of  the  Plaza  Bolivar.  The  prevailing  colour  is  brown. 
Now  and  then  one  sees  a  pure  Indian,  but  not  very  often.  Among 
the  faces  are  a  small  sprinkling  of  German  and  French  types,  but 
almost  never  an  Anglo-Saxon.  The  faces  denoting  pure  Spanish 
descent  are  also  scarce.  The  great  majority  show  the  mixture  of 
Spanish,  Indian  and  Negro. 

There  is  a  great  sameness  in  the  appearance  of  the  houses.  Most 
of  them  look  as  though  they  had  been  built  on  identically  the  same 
plan.  A  paved  passage  leads  from  the  street  to  a  small  uncovered 
patio  from  which  one  has  access  to  the  living-rooms  in  front  and 
rear.  The  main  room  looks  out  on  the  street,  usually  through  two 
barred  windows  that  project  over  the  sidewalk.  The  streets  are 
narrow,  and  telephone  poles  are  placed  in  the  sidewalk  about  eight 
inches  from  its  edge.  As  the  sidewalks  are  also  extremely  narrow, 
two  pedestrians  walking  side  by  side  cannot  pass  with  comfort 
between  the  telephone  poles  and  the  sides  of  the  houses.  And  when 
the  iron  framework  of  a  window  projects  ten  or  twelve  inches  from 
the  wall,  as  it  frequently  does,  there  is  barely  room  for  even  one 
person  to  pass.  In  the  suburbs,  where  the  streets  are  wider,  trees  are 
frequently  planted  in  the  sidewalk,  a  hole  twenty  inches  in  diameter 
being  left  in  the  concrete  for  that  purpose.  Evidently  it  is  expected 
that  people  should  walk  in  single  file. 

The  old  mule  trail  to  La  Guayra  goes  directly  north  over  the 


6 


VENEZUELA 


mountain  from  the  northwest  corner  of  Caracas.  It  is  still  used  to  a 
limited  extent,  although  all  heavy  goods  are  conveyed  either  by  train 
or  by  the  cart  road  that  follows  more  or  less  the  line  of  the  railway. 

In  places  the  road  still 
retains  the  old  Spanish 
stone  paving  described 
by  Colonel  Will  iam 
Duane  of  Philadelphia 
in  his  “Visit  to  Colom¬ 
bia”  in  1823. 

South  of  Caracas, 
across  an  attractive  little 
river,  rises  a  range  of 
gentle  hills  where  Pa- 
raiso,  a  fashionable 
suburb,  reached  by  new 
roads  and  modern 
bridges,  is  rapidly  grow¬ 
ing  up.  President  Cas¬ 
tro  has  built  a  large  new 
villa  here  and  several  of 
his  friends  are  doing 
likewise.  The  view  from 
their  houses  is  wonder¬ 
fully  attractive.  I  do 
not  remember  ever  to 
have  seen  more  beauti¬ 
ful  colours.  The  intense  blue  of  the  sky,  the  lighter  blues  of  the 
distant  mountains,  every  possible  shade  of  green  on  hillsides  and 
in  gardens,  and  the  red  tiled  roofs  and  whitewashed  walls  of  Cara¬ 
cas,  make  a  wonderful  combination. 

Four  little  railroads  run  out  of  Caracas  north,  east,  south,  and  west. 
The  northern  one  goes  to  La  Guayra,  the  western  to  Valencia,  and 
the  southern  to  Valle,  a  village  about  three  miles  from  the  capital 
and  the  centre  of  an  agricultural  district.  After  winding  through  a 
gap  in  the  range  of  low  hills  south  of  Caracas  this  road  passes 
between  fields  of  sugar-cane  and  reaches  the  terminus  almost  before 


Courtyard  of  the  American  Legation. 


CARACAS 


7 


one  realizes  that  the  train  has  started.  Valle  offers  as  its  chief 
attraction  a  view  of  La  Silla.  This  mountain  rises  so  abruptly  from 
the  northern  suburbs  of  Caracas  that  one  gets  no  conception  of  its 
eight  thousand  feet  until  one  draws  away  from  it,  when  it  looms  up 
and  becomes  more  and  more  majestic. 


A  Street  Crowd  in  Caracas. 


December  14th.  Our  kind  host,  Mr.  Jacob  Sleeper,  took  us 
this  morning  by  appointment  to  the  foreign  office,  where  he  presented 
us  to  Dr.  Jose  Jesus  Paul,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs.  Dr.  Paul 
is  tall,  has  iron-gray  hair,  a  most  gracious  bearing,  is  well  educated, 
and  has  travelled  considerably.  He  speaks  English  readily.  He 
wished  us  success  in  our  mission  and  promised  to  give  us  a  card  that 
would  request  the  officials  along  our  route  to  place  no  obstacles  in 
our  way. 

After  our  call,  we  went  to  see  the  principal  sights,  accompanied 
by  Dr.  Paul’s  secretary.  First  we  visited  the  Capitol.  It  occupies 
an  entire  city  block  and  is  built  around  a  large  attractive  patio. 
The  south  wing  is  devoted  to  the  legislative  bodies,  the  east  and 


8 


VENEZUELA 


west  wings  to  various  governmental  offices,  and  the  north  wing  to  a 
magnificent  hall.  Here  the  more  important  official  receptions  are 
held.  On  its  walls  are  hung  many  historical  paintings.  At  its  east 


end  is  a  representation  of  Bolivar  addressing  the  Congress  of  Angos¬ 
tura  shortly  before  his  famous  march.  The  scene  is  a  wild  one,  the 
building  a  tumbled-down  thatched  hut.  Although  painted  when 
most  of  the  members  of  that  Congress  had  long  been  dead,  care  was 


CARACAS 


9 


taken  to  make  the  faces  as  good  likenesses  as  possible.  The  ceiling 
is  devoted  to  fanciful  paintings  of  the  battles  of  Carabobo  and 
Boyaca,  in  which  the  soldiers  of  the  Wars  of  Independence  achieved 
their  greatest  victories.  At  the  western  end  is  a  large  painting  of 
the  surrender  after  the 
battle  of  Ayacucho,  the 
final  battle  for  inde¬ 
pendence  in  Spanish 
South  America. 

Portraits  of  the 
chief  revolutionary  he¬ 
roes,  including  San 
Martin,  Paez,  Sucre, 
and  Gregory  Mc¬ 
Gregor  are  hung  on 
the  north  and  south 
walls  of  the  reception- 
hall.  The  most  inter¬ 
esting  is  a  portrait  of 
Bolivar,  said  to  be  one 
of  the  three  extant 
likenesses  known  to 
have  been  painted 
during  his  lifetime. 

Two  documents  ac¬ 
company  the  portrait. 

In  one,  Antonio  Guz¬ 
man,  the  friend  of 
Bolivar  and  the  father 
of  President  Guzman 
Blanco,  writing  under 
date  of  1870,  states  that  he  saw  this  picture  painted  in  1825-26,  by 
a  Peruvian  artist  whose  name  he  has  forgotten  (but  which  appears 
on  the  canvas  as  Gil)  in  the  palace  at  Lima.  He  also  states  that 
many  of  Bolivar’s  friends  were  present  during  the  sittings  and  gave 
the  artist  such  efficient  criticism  that  an  excellent  likeness  was  pro¬ 
cured.  The  other  document  is  a  letter  from  the  former  owners  of 


Bolivar. 

From  the  portrait  in  the  capitol  at  Caracas. 


IO 


VENEZUELA 


the  picture,  a  niece  and  nephew  of  Bolivar,  presenting  it  to  Presi¬ 
dent  Guzman  Blanco,  in  order  that  it  may  be  permanently  exhibited 
in  the  Federal  Palace,  where  the  people  of  Venezuela  may  always 
be  able  to  see  the  best  known  likeness  of  their  great  hero.  The 
portrait  is  not  flattering.  The  drawing  of  the  figure  is  very  crude 
but  the  head  is  lifelike  and  is  probably  a  faithful  portrait. 


Castro  at  the  Head  of  his  Troops. 


From  the  Capitol  we  went  to  Independence  Flail,  where  the 
Venezuelan  Declaration  of  Independence  was  signed  in  1811.  It  is 
at  present  used  for  civil  marriages.  At  the  north  end  of  the  hall  is  a 
large  painting  representing  the  signing  of  the  Declaration.  The 
picture  is  probably  quite  as  correct  as  that  of  a  similar  event  now 
hanging  in  the  Capitol  at  Washington.  The  most  conspicuous 


CARACAS 


II 


figure  in  the  group  is  General  Miranda,  the  father  of  Venezuelan 
Independence.  On  the  east  wall  hangs  an  equestrian  portrait  of 
President  Castro  at  the  head  of  his  troops.  Seated  in  a  striking 
attitude  on  a  white  horse,  the  general  seems  to  challenge  all  comers. 
On  the  west  wall  is  a  frame  containing  one  of  the  standards  supposed 
to  have  been  carried  by  Pizarro  during  the  conquest  of  Peru.  It 
was  captured  in  Cuzco  by  General  Sucre  during  the  final  campaign 
for  Peruvian  independence,  and  presented  by  him  to  Bolivar,  who  in 
turn  gave  it  to  the  city  of  Caracas.  Pizarro  doubtless  had  more 


Castro’s  Villa  at  Paraiso. 


than  one  flag,  so  this  has  quite  as  good  a  claim  to  be  genuine  as  the 
two  or  three  other  “standards  of  Pizarro”  that  are  preserved  in  vari¬ 
ous  South  American  cities.  Another  interesting  relic  preserved  here 
is  a  large  volume  said  to  contain  the  minutes  of  the  Venezuelan  Gov¬ 
ernment  during  the  revolutionary  epoch.  It  is  kept  in  a  glass  case 
and  we  were  unable  to  examine  it. 

We  next  visited  “Exposition  Hall,”  now  devoted  to  the  two 
Academies.  The  Academy  of  Languages  occupies  rooms  in  the 
north  wing,  while  the  Academy  of  History  meets  in  the  south  wing. 


12 


VENEZUELA 


The  halls  are  somewhat  faded  and  forlorn,  but  undoubtedly  many 
learned  discussions  have  taken  place  around  the  long  tables  where 
the  academicians  sit  on  Friday  nights  in  comfortable  armchairs. 

Next  door  is  the  ancient  University  with  its  attractive  quad¬ 
rangles.  Directly  over  the  entrance  is  a  grand  convocation  hall 
where  commencement  exercises  are  held  and  degrees  conferred.  At 
one  end,  on  a  raised  dais  under  a  rich  canopy,  is  the  president’s 
seat.  The  seats  of  the  faculty,  large  comfortable  chairs  upholstered 


The  Patio  of  the  Capitol. 


in  red  brocade,  are  immediately  in  front  of  the  dais,  fenced  off  by  a 
railing  from  the  audience.  In  the  centre  of  the  hall  is  a  beautiful 
old  pulpit,  now  used  as  a  rostrum  from  which  the  candidates  for 
degrees  read  their  theses.  To.  enter  it  one  has  to  climb  a  rough 
wooden  ladder  as  crude  and  undignified  as  the  rostrum,  with  its 
rich  gilded  carvings  and  beautifully  decorated  panels,  is  magnificent. 
This  contrast  between  splendour  and  squalor  is  one  that  frequently 
appears  in  Caracas. 

The  examination  hall  is  on  the  second  floor,  between  the  first 


CARACAS 


*3 


and  second  quadrangles.  Here  we  listened  to  an  examination  for 
the  degree  of  doctor  of  dentistry.  The  president  of  the  University 
sat  under  a  crimson  canopy  at  the  end  of  the  room,  flanked  by  several 
of  the  local  physicians  and  the  professors  of  dentistry.  The  candi¬ 
date,  dressed  in  his  very  best,  was  seated  in  the  centre  of  the  hall  at 
a  small  table  on  which  was  a  glass  of  brandy  and  water,  from  which 
he  derived  inspiration  from  time  to  time.  There  were  no  charts  or 
instruments  in  sight  and  it  was  somewhat  difficult  for  the  uninitiated 
to  see  how  a  satisfactory  examination  in  dentistry  could  be  con¬ 
ducted  entirely  orally. 


The  Capitol  and  the  University. 


In  one  of  the  wings  of  the  University  is  the  National  Museum, 
where  everything  is  in  wretched  condition.  The  specimens  of  ani¬ 
mals  and  reptiles,  badly  preserved,  moth-eaten  and  decaying,  seemed 
to  be  literally  on  their  last  legs.  Geological  specimens,  stuffed  birds, 
publications  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  Indian  weapons  and 
implements,  and  the  bones  of  a  mastodon  found  near  Coro,  all  in 
confusion  and  covered  with  dust,  made  one  feel  that  the  museum 
was  not  very  highly  appreciated  by  the  authorities. 


14 


VENEZUELA 


Near  the  University  is  the  ancient  monastic  church  of  San  Fran¬ 
cisco,  which  contains  a  marvellous  altar-piece  covered  with  elaborate 
gilded  carvings  said  to  be  three  hundred  years  old.  From  here  we 

drove  to  the  Pan¬ 
theon,  modelled  on 
the  one  in  Paris. 
Formerly  a  church, 
it  is  now  devoted  to 
the  graves  of  the  na¬ 
tion’s  heroes.  Boli¬ 
var,  Monagas,  Paez, 
O’Leary,  and  most 
of  the  Venezuelan 
revolutionary  chiefs 
are  buried  here. 
The  most  notable 
exceptions  are  Mi¬ 
randa  and  Sucre,  the 
former  dying  in  an 
unknown  Spanish 
prison  cell  and  the 
latter  having  been 
assassinated  in  Bo¬ 
livia.  The  late 
President  Crespo, 
the  foremost  patron 
of  art  that  Venezuela 
has  had,  caused  a 

The  Altar  in  the  Church  of  San  Francisco.  number  of  beautiful 

monuments  to  be 

erected  in  the  Pantheon  to  the  memory  of  the  heroes.  Most  of 
them  were  made  on  the  spot  by  able  sculptors  who  were  brought 
from  Italy  for  that  purpose. 

The  National  Library  is  located  on  the  north  side  of  the  great 
Plaza  Bolivar.  The  librarian,  General  Manuel  Landaeta  Rosales, 
is  one  of  the  foremost  Venezuelan  historians  and  has  written  a  large 
number  of  monographs  in  his  chosen  field.  He  has  arranged  the 


CARACAS 


T5 


books  in  excellent  order,  and  the  library  has  every  appearance  of 
being  well  kept.  In  one  room,  devoted  to  theology,  we  feasted  our 
eyes  on  ten  thousand  beautiful  vellum-covered  folios,  only  regretting 
that  their  contents  are  not  of  a  nature  to  inspire  equal  interest  with 
their  printing  and  binding. 

This  afternoon  we  went  to  a  tea  at  which  we  met  the  diplomatic 
corps.  One  of  the  diplomats  has  been  recently  on  a  hunting  trip 
near  San  Carlos  and  declares  that  the  country  which  we  propose  to 
cross  is  “simply  impassable.”  He  says  we  “will  suffer  untold 


The  Tomb  of  Bolivar  in  the  Pantheon. 


horrors  and  will  probably  starve  to  death.”  Quien  sabe?  The  prin¬ 
cipal  topic  of  conversation  was  the  illness  of  President  Castro.  He 
has  been  failing  for  some  months  and  a  day  or  two  before  my  arrival 
was  carried  down  to  the  seashore  near  La  Guayra  in  the  hope  that 
a  change  of  air  might  benefit  him.  All  sorts  of  rumours  are  flying 
about,  and  it  is  currently  reported  that  he  cannot  live  more  than  a 
few  days  longer.  Every  one  is  wondering  what  will  happen  next. 

December  i^th.  This  morning  we  visited  the  Vargas  hospital, 
the  largest  in  Venezuela.  It  has  room  for  four  hundred  patients, 


i6 


VENEZUELA 


although  there  are  only  about  two  hundred  there  now.  We  met 
several  of  the  doctors  and  visited  half  a  dozen  wards.  Each  ward 
is  a  separate  building,  connected  with  the  other  wards  by  cloisters 
and  separated  from  them  by  gardens,  so  that  there  is  an  abundance 
of  light  and  fresh  air.  We  were  present  at  an  operation  performed 
by  one  of  the  leading  surgeons.  A  placard  on  the  wall  back  of  the 
operating  table  caused  us  no  little  amusement.  It  read  in  Spanish, 
“Those  who  spit  are  forbidden  to  stand  around  the  table  during  the 
operation!”  After  reading  this  notice  we  were  not  surprised  to  see 
that  several  of  the  visitors  smoked,  that  about  fifteen  or  sixteen  curi¬ 
ous  persons,  including  doctors,  students,  and  a  convalescent  patient 
in  his  nightgown,  crowded  close  around  the  table  during  the  opera¬ 
tion.  The  surgeons  made  some  attempt  at  modern  methods,  but 
did  not  wear  rubber  gloves  and  allowed  the  patient  to  lie  in  a  cold 
draft  with  almost  no  covering  on.  The  whole  thing  was  so  clumsily 
done,  it  made  one  shiver. 

After  such  an  exhibition  we  were  quite  surprised  in  visiting  the 
department  of  bacteriology  to  find  there  an  extremely  clever  young 
doctor  surrounded  by  first-class  apparatus.  Excellent  microscopes, 
good  cultures,  and  well-made  specimens  were  in  evidence.  For 
experimental  purposes  he  had  cats,  dogs,  rabbits,  guinea-pigs,  rats, 
mice,  and  a  few  birds.  One  could  not  help  being  most  favourably 
impressed  with  the  excellent  work  done  in  this  department;  notwith¬ 
standing  the  fact  that  the  noise  made  by  the  caged  animals  must 
have  been  rather  annoying  to  the  patients  in  the  neighbouring  wards. 
At  one  end  of  the  hospital  is  the  laundry,  a  large  concrete  pavilion 
where  the  fowls  of  the  air  congregate  and  assist  in  undoing  the  work 
of  the  washerwomen. 

December  17 th.  On  Sunday  afternoon  we  attended  the  weekly 
bull-fight.  The  toreadors  were  not  very  skilful  and  the  bulls  were 
rather  tame.  The  first  bull  was  a  fine,  large  animal  whose  rushes 
and  charges  were  most  satisfactory  to  the  audience.  It  took  several 
stabs  to  kill  him  even  after  he  was  once  down.  The  second  bull 
was  a  nervous  creature  who  fortunately  was  neatly  despatched  with 
one  thrust  of  the  sword.  At  this  exhibition  of  skill  the  crowd  went 
wild  and  gave  the  matador  a  great  ovation,  showering  flowers,  hats, 
and  coins  on  him.  The  next  two  bulls  were  timid  and  could  not  be 


CARACAS 


17 


coaxed  to  show  any  fight  at  all.  They  were  driven  out  of  the  ring 
amid  the  hisses  and  groans  of  the  crowd.  The  next  bull  was  more 
lively,  too  lively  in  fact,  for  he  seemed  to  have  nine  lives.  The  per¬ 
formance  lasted  a  little  over  two  hours,  but  we  went  away  before  the 
end.  It  was  neither  good  sport  nor  an  exhibition  of  skilful  butcher¬ 
ing. 

December  igth.  One  sees  on  the  street  an  extraordinary  number 
of  beggars  afflicted  with  malignant  diseases.  Otherwise,  owing  to 
frequent  showers  and  an  efficient  street-cleaning  brigade,  the  streets 
are  cleaner  than  one  might  expect.  There  are  many  street  cries, 
but  the  loudest  are  those  of  the  venders  of  lottery  tickets  who  persist 
in  repeatedly  announcing  the  favourite  numbers  they  have  for  sale. 

This  afternoon  we  went  to  see  the  lottery  drawing.  On  Sundays 
there  is  a  “grand  prize”  of  five  thousand  dollars,  but  on  Wednesdays 
the  “grand  prize”  is  only  one  thousand.  Each  number  has  eighteen 
parts  and  one  can  buy  a  part  for  ten  cents.  Apparently  every  one 
in  town  who  can  afford  it  takes  chances  semi-weekly.  Naturally 
the  lottery  has  a  bad  effect  on  the  population  and  tends  to  demoralize 
honest  labour.  As  the  afternoon  was  rainy,  the  drawing  of  the  lottery 
was  not  held  in  the  flower  pavilion  near  the  market-place,  as  usual, 
but  in  the  courtyard  of  the  company’s  offices.  It  was  attended  by 
about  a  hundred  individuals,  most  of  whom  belonged  to  the  loafing 
class.  The  drawing  proceeded  very  rapidly  and  the  crowd  watched 
in  silence,  patiently  waiting  for  the  allotment  of  the  first  prize,  which 
was  the  only  one  in  which  they  had  any  particular  interest.  Its 
announcement  was  followed  by  a  murmur  of  voices  as  the  crowd 
whispered  the  lucky  number  and  wondered  who  was  its  fortunate 
possessor.  I  was  surprised  at  the  small  show  of  disappointment  or 
pleasure  manifested.  The  same  apathy  is  very  noticeable  at  the 
Club  Concordia,  the  most  fashionable  club  in  Caracas,  where  bac¬ 
carat  is  played  every  afternoon  and  evening.  Although  a  man’s 
losses  or  gains  may  amount  to  thousands  of  dollars,  it  appears  to 
make  very  little  difference  to  him  or  the  others.  I  have  seen  Cubans 
and  Porto  Ricans  get  tremendously  excited  over  games  of  chance 
that  involved  altogether  less  than  fifty  dollars.  Yet  their  cousins 
here  in  Caracas,  whether  of  the  highest  or  the  lowest  class,  seem  to 
take  both  good  and  bad  luck  very  equably. 


i8 


VENEZUELA 


December  20th.  Yesterday  afternoon  we  went  to  the  cathedral 
to  see  a  remarkable  painting  of  the  Lord’s  Supper  by  the  late  Vene¬ 
zuelan  artist  Michelena.1  Others  of  his  paintings,  including  two  that 
had  taken  prizes  at  the  Paris  salon,  are  at  the  Academy  of  Fine 
Arts.  He  was  deservedly  patronized  by  the  late  President  Crespo 
and  painted  several  pictures  for  his  palace  of  Miraflores.  It  is  a 
great  misfortune  that  he  died  when  still  quite  a  young  man. 

This  morning  we  visited  Miraflores,  which  is  now  vacant.  It  was 
occupied  for  several  years  by  President  Castro,  who,  it  is  said,  neg¬ 
lected  to  pay  any  rent  to  its  owner,  the  widow  of  General  Crespo. 
Perhaps  he  regarded  it  as  the  property  of  the  state.  The  palace. 


Looking  Northwest  from  Calvario. 


which  is  said  to  have  cost  two  million  dollars,  stands  on  a  bluff,  and 
its  roof,  on  which  there  was  once  a  small  park  of  artillery,  commands 
all  the  approaches  to  Caracas.  It  impresses  one  as  being  a  most 
appropriate  residence  for  the  President  of  Venezuela. 

From  Miraflores  we  drove  to  the  Cajigal  observatory,  which 
is  situated  on  top  of  a  hill  west  of  the  city  and  above  Calvario,  the 
attractive  park  built  by  the  late  President  Guzman  Blanco.  We 
were  most  kindly  received  by  Dr.  Urgueto,  the  astronomer  in  charge, 


1  One  of  his  historical  paintings  is  in  the  City  Hall,  New  York. 


CARACAS 


19 


who  showed  us  his  instruments  and  explained  the  careful  methods 
by  which  the  new  military  map  of  Venezuela  is  being  made.  By 
means  of  the  government  telegraph,  the  observatory  acts  in  conjunc¬ 
tion  with  men  in  the  field  and  is  thus  able  to  determine  the  correct 
latitude  and  longitude  of  a  large  number  of  places.  The  map  com¬ 
mission  seems  to  be  doing  excellent  topographical  work.  We  have 
been  allowed  to  see  and  admire  some  of  their  maps,  but  not  to  make 
copies  or  take  any  notes,  although  these  would  make  our  journey 
somewhat  easier. 

This  afternoon  we  met  a  famous  general  who  has  been  in  many 
revolutions  and  has  had  a  most  romantic  career.  Cowboy  and 
soldier,  distinguished  for  daring  and  courage,  he  has  spent  many 
days  in  prison  and  has  lived  some  time  in  exile.  During  the  last 
serious  revolution,  he  was  on  the  losing  side  and  was  captured  by 
General  Castro’s  forces  and  imprisoned.  Being  by  nature  extremely 
active  and  energetic  he  grasped  at  an  opportunity  to  while  away  his 
time  of  imprisonment  which  was  offered  by  the  gift  of  two  or  three 
silkworm  eggs  and  some  books  on  the  subject.  He  told  us  that  he 
raised  silkworms  in  his  cell  and  in  four  months  had  three  thousand 
cocoons.  From  these  he  made  silk  thread  and  finally  fabricated  a 
beautiful  sash  which  he  sent  to  the  President.  General  Castro  was 
so  pleased  at  this  undertaking,  that  he  pardoned  him  and  tendered 
him  a  fine  estate  near  Caracas,  where  the  silkworm  industry  is  to 
be  encouraged.  The  old  soldier  has  made  a  wonderful  collection 
of  Venezuelan  butterflies  and  is  as  thoroughly  absorbed  in  his  cocoons 
and  mulberry  trees  as  he  once  was  in  guerrilla  warfare. 

December  22 d.  One  of  the  many  charming  people  who  have 
been  so  very  kind  to  us  in  Caracas  drove  us  out  this  morning  to  a 
sugar  plantation  in  the  suburbs  which  has  been  in  this  family  for 
many  years.  The  main  dwelling-house  is  a  wonderful  old  Spanish 
mansion  that  has  withstood  the  earthquakes  of  the  past  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years.  Within  its  walls  it  now  shelters  three  distinct  house¬ 
holds  that  have  entirely  separate  establishments;  but  as  the  building 
itself  is  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide  and  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  feet  long,  it  will  be  seen  that  its  tenants  have  no  lack  of  room  for 
comfort.  Three  hundred  yards  away  is  the  sugar  mill,  a  romantic 
Spanish  structure  where  the  same  primitive  methods  of  sugar-making 


20 


VENEZUELA 


are  followed  that  have  been  in  use  for  generations.  The  mill  is  a 
small  three-roller  affair  to  which  cane  is  brought  to  be  ground  each 
day  in  the  year,  excepting  always  Sundays  and  holidays.  As  the 
bagasse  falls  from  the  rollers  it  is  caught  in  a  rawhide  stretcher  and 


The  University  and  the  Academy  of  History. 

carried  away  by  two  labourers  to  the  drying  sheds.  From  there  a 
small  car  on  a  track  sixteen  inches  wide  takes  the  dried  bagasse  to 
the  furnaces  under  the  vats  where  the  juice  is  boiled.  In  front  of 
each  of  the  four  vats  stands  a  man  with  a  huge  oar  which  he  rows  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  cause  the  scum  to  slop  over  into  the  next  vat. 


CARACAS 


21 


From  the  last  vat  in  which  it  is  boiled,  the  juice  is  poured  into  sugar- 
loaf  moulds  to  cool  and  harden  in  the  form  in  which  it  appears  the 
next  day  in  the  shops  of  Caracas.  The  daily  capacity  of  this  mill  is 
about  three  and  a  half  tons  of  sugar,  the  yield  of  an  acre  and  a  quarter 
of  cane.  The  manager  and  owner  is  an  intelligent  young  man, 
educated  in  England  and  America,  yet  he  assures  us  that  no  other 
method  would  pay  here.  Probably  he  is  right,  but  I  could  not  help 
wondering  what  the  people  of  Honolulu  would  say  if  they  had  such 
a  primitive  mill  in  operation  within  a  few  miles  of  the  capital  of 
Hawaii.  Sugar  is  highly  protected  in  Venezuela,  its  importation 
being  forbidden. 

December  241k.  A  few  years  ago  President  Castro  decided  to 
erect  a  National  Theatre  and  gave  orders  for  some  of  the  trees  in 
the  Plaza  Washington  to  be  cut  down  to  make  room  for  the  new 
building.  It  is  related  that  one  Saturday  night  a  wag  approached 
the  statue  of  Washington  that  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  plaza  and 
proceeded  to  condole  the  Father  of  His  Country  on  the  despoliation 
of  his  trees.  Finally,  as  the  statue  returned  no  answer,  the  joyful 
wag  became  gently  resentful  and  turned  sadly  away  with  the  remark: 
“Anyhow  I  suppose  you  realize  it  serves  you  right;  for  it  was  you, 
was  it  not,  who  cut  down  your  father’s  tree?” 

Last  evening  we  attended  a  concert  at  the  theatre.  It  is  arranged 
after  the  usual  Spanish  manner,  having  a  tier  of  boxes  in  place  of 
the  balcony.  In  the  “gallery”  directly  over  the  boxes  were  some 
fifty  men  with  their  hats  on,  two  Indian  women,  and  a  little  child. 
Most  of  the  ladies  in  the  boxes  wore  large  picture  hats,  but  a  few 
were  in  conventional  evening  attire.  In  the  orchestra  circle  were  a 
number  of  men  in  evening  dress  and  a  third  as  many  ladies.  In 
the  orchestra  itself  ladies  are  not  allowed.  The  programme  included 
numbers  by  a  symphony  orchestra,  a  pianist,  and  a  boy  violinist  who 
was  making  his  first  appearance  in  public.  The  orchestral  music 
was  fair  although  the  orchestra  clearly  needed  more  rehearsals. 
The  players  varied  in  colour  from  pure  white  to  jet  black,  but  the 
majority  were  brown.  The  pianist  performed  prodigies  of  valour  on 
a  grand  concert  piano,  a  “tin  pan”  that  would  not  have  been  toler¬ 
ated  for  a  moment  in  any  private  house  in  the  States,  much  less  in  a 
concert  hall.  The  little  violinist  in  white  shorts,  bare  legs,  white 


22 


VENEZUELA 


socks,  and  black  pumps,  appeared  to  be  about  eleven  years  old  and 
very  much  frightened.  Neither  he  nor  the  piano  soloist  had  com¬ 
mitted  their  pieces  to  memory  and  the  latter  actually  had  to  turn 
his  own  music.  The  most  striking  difference  between  this  audience 
and  a  concert  audience  in  the  States  was  the  fact  that  more  than  two- 
thirds  of  those  present  were  men. 

The  women  of  Caracas  appear  to  have  rather  a  dull  time.  They 
seldom  go  out  except  to  mass  and  their  chief  amusement  seems  to  be 
sitting  behind  the  iron  bars  of  their  windows  watching  the  passers- 
by  and  gossiping  with  their  neighbours.  As  the  windows  nearly 
always  project,  it  is  easy  to  talk  from  one  window  to  the  next  without 
leaving  the  house.  On  Sunday  evenings  the  ladies  attend  the  band 
concerts  on  the  plaza.  Their  escorts  rent  chairs  for  them  and  they 
sit  in  the  glare  of  the  electric  lights  to  be  stared  at  by  the  young 
gentlemen  of  the  city  who  parade  up  and  down  the  walks.  Anglo- 
Saxons  would  find  it  annoying,  but  that  is  because  their  ancestors 
did  not  live  in  sunny  Spain. 

After  the  concert  we  went  to  La  India,  the  best  known  restaurant 
in  Caracas.  One  of  the  customs  of  the  place  is  for  everyone  who 
enters  the  room  to  bow  right  and  left  to  those  who  are  seated  at  the 
tables  and  who  look  up  and  bow  in  return.  The  action  is  so  courte¬ 
ous,  friendly,  and  personal  that  it  is  quite  embarrassing — to  an 
Anglo-Saxon.  Everything  about  La  India  is  expensive.  I  bought 
two  cigars  for  a  friend  and  with  difficulty  concealed  my  surprise 
when  told  that  they  were  a  dollar  apiece.  The  best  chocolate  is  a 
dollar  a  pound,  although  this  is  the  home  of  the  cocoa  bean  and  the 
refined  product  is  made  in  Caracas.  The  three  better  grades  they 
tell  me  are  not  imported  into  the  United  States,  as  no  one  there  cares 
to  pay  what  they  cost. 

December  25 th.  Last  night,  shortly  before  12  o’clock,  we  went 
to  the  church  of  the  Capuchins  to  witness  La  Misa  del  Gallo  (the 
midnight  mass  or  the  mass  of  the  cock).  The  church  was  beau¬ 
tifully  illuminated  with  candles  in  magnificent  crystal  candelabra 
and  was  thronged  with  people.  Although  some  were  evidently 
attending  out  of  a  spirit  of  curiosity,  all  were  reverent  and  many  had 
come  prepared  to  spend  the  night  in  prayer  and  worship.  In  one 
of  the  shrines  was  a  grotto,  representing  Bethlehem  and  the  Nativity, 


CARACAS 


2  3 


illuminated  with  electric  lights.  During  the  mass  an  orchestra 
supplemented  the  organ.  The  special  feature  of  the  music  was  the 
occasional  squawk  of  a  native  instrument  that  is  supposed  to  imitate 
the  crowing  of  a  cock. 

December  31  st.  The  Capuchin  fathers  maintain  an  interesting 
museum  of  natural  history  in  a  large  room  in  one  of  the  buildings  at 
the  rear  of  their  church.  Brother  Cornelis,  collector,  taxidermist, 
and  curator,  is  a  born  naturalist  of  the  old  school.  He  does  beau¬ 
tiful  work,  and  his  collections  are  in  marked  contrast  with  those 


Plaza  Bolivar  on  New  Year’s  Eve. 


of  the  National  Museum.  He  has  been  most  polite  in  showing  us 
the  results  of  his  six  years’  devotion  to  science  and  the  church  in 
Venezuela.  Moved  by  humanitarian  principles  he  has  made  a  spe¬ 
cialty  of  snakes  and  has  a  wonderful  collection  of  the  most  deadly 
varieties. 

I  have  called  on  him  several  times  at  the  close  of  a  day  of  sight¬ 
seeing,  for  he  is  most  restful.  It  makes  one  feel  as  though  one  were 
living  in  the  middle  ages  to  hear  the  monks  laughing,  singing,  and 
talking  in  the  garden,  while  one,  the  most  learned  of  all,  seated  in  a 
dark  corner  of  the  great  room  lined  with  specimens  of  his  craft, 
reads  aloud  from  a  scientific  treatise.  It  was  a  picture  for  an  artist 


24 


VENEZUELA 


to  see.  The  old  man  with  his  long  flowing  beard,  his  brown  coarse 
cloth  robe  tied  with  a  rope,  and  his  picturesque  sandals,  reading  in  a 
gentle  voice  from  a  page  dimly  lighted  by  a  single  candle. 

January  ist,  1907.  Last  evening  we  went  with  nearly  every¬ 
body  else  in  Caracas  to  the  Plaza  Bolivar,  to  greet  the  new  year. 
Electric  lights,  placed  in  the  trees  and  clustered  in  stars  and  mottoes, 
made  the  plaza  very  brilliant.  A  military  band  played  from  10.3c  p.m. 
until  after  midnight.  The  arrival  of  the  new  year  was  marked  by 
the  flashing  forth  of  an  electric  sign  bearing  the  words  “Feliz  Ano 
Nuevo”  (Happy  New  Year)  on  one  of  the  government  buildings,  a 
discharge  of  musketry,  and  scores  of  rockets.  This  was  immediately 
followed  by  a  universal  hand-shaking,  embracing,  and  kissing,  while 
the  band  played  a  lively  air  and  the  forts  fired  a  salute  of  twenty- 
one  guns.  It  is  the  custom  for  friends  and  acquaintances  to  indulge 
in  much  embracing  in  the  Spanish  fashion,  and  there  was  general 
felicitation  on  all  sides. 

After  the  universal  exchange  of  greetings  we  followed  the  crowd 
to  La  India,  where  a  gay  assemblage  was  partaking  of  ices  and  pledg¬ 
ing  each  other  a  Happy  New  Year. 


CHAPTER  II 


Valencia  and  Carabobo 

January  2d.  Tomorrow  morning  we  take  the  train  for  Valen¬ 
cia.  We  calculate  that  our  route  to  Bogota  is  about  one  thousand 
miles  in  length.  With  the  necessary  stops  at  the  battle-fields  of 
Carabobo  and  Boyaca,  and  the  few  days  we  shall  need  to  purchase 
mules  and  complete  our  outfit  at  Valencia,  it  will  probably  be  March 
15th  before  we  reach  Bogota.  If  we  average  fifteen  miles  a  day, 
we  shall  be  doing  well.  Most  of  our  friends  here  are  confident  that 
we  will  never  get  there  and  are  bidding  us  good-by  with  gloomy 
forebodings.  Hardly  any  of  them  have  ever  travelled  in  the  interior 
and  no  one  has  any  idea  of  the  actual  route  that  we  shall  be  obliged 
to  take. 

Our  outfit  consists  of  everything  which  we  expect  to  require  in 
crossing  barren  plains  and  unfrequented  mountain  passes.  Saddles, 
mountain  breeching,  bridles,  tents,  blankets,  surveying  instruments, 
a  theodolite,  prismatic  compasses,  a  sextant,  brass  folding  lanterns, 
kitchen  utensils,  emergency  rations  including  erbswurst,  julienne, 
beef-tea  capsules,  coffee,  chocolate,  Hour,  sugar,  rice,  and  salt.  In 
selecting  articles  I  found  R.  H.  Davis’s  list  in  Scribner's  Magazine  of 
considerable  value.  On  his  advice  I  am  taking  a  folding  cot  and 
a  folding  chair,  much  to  Rice’s  amusement.  We  are  taking  both 
films  and  plates  in  our  photographic  outfit,  as  we  have  heard  that 
the  latter  do  much  better  in  this  climate,  although  they  are  heavy 
to  carry  and  very  fragile.  Rice  carries  his  valuables,  including  a 
fine  set  of  surgical  instruments,  in  a  tin  trunk,  while  I  am  entrust¬ 
ing  mine  to  a  sole  leather  trunk.  We  are  taking  two  Winchester 
rifles,  a  Mauser,  and  two  Winchester  repeating  shotguns,  besides 
three  revolvers  and  a  sufficient  supply  of  ammunition.  A  few  books, 
such  maps  as  we  have  been  able  to  procure,  and  clothes  for  a  four 
months’  trip  make  up  the  rest  of  the  outfit. 

25 


26 


VENEZUELA 


January  3d.  The  train  for  Valencia  left  Caracas  about  8  a.m. 
The  railroad  is  owned  and  operated  by  Germans.  We  were  out¬ 
rageously  overcharged  for  our  luggage.  The  outfit  weighed  alto¬ 
gether  about  1100  pounds,  but  the  baggage  master  declared  it  weighed 
1100  kilograms  or  2400  pounds!  Notwithstanding  a  vigorous  pro¬ 
test  we  were  obliged  to  pay  for  over  half  a  ton  of  excess  luggage 
that  we  did  not  have.  Sixty-five  dollars  “excess”  on  a  journey  of 
one  hundred  miles  was  an  entirely  new  and  unlooked-for  experience. 
The  road  ought  to  pay  good  dividends  if  everyone  is  treated  that 
way. 

Our  train  consisted  of  a  small  engine  made  in  Germany,  three 
freight  cars,  a  baggage  car,  a  first-class  coach  with  seats  for  twenty- 
two  people,  and  a  second-class  coach  of  about  the  same  capacity. 
The  passengers  were  nearly  all  men,  the  only  women  being  two  nuns. 
Most  of  the  men  were  Venezuelans,  but  there  were  a  few  Germans 
and  an  Italian  priest. 

After  leaving  Caracas  the  road  passes  through  sugar-cane  fields, 
then  enters  a  beautiful  valley  densely  covered  with  tropical  foliage. 
Occasionally  we  passed  coffee  plantations  and  small  clearings.  The 
valley  constantly  grew  narrower  and  the  mountains  rose  higher  on 
each  side  until  the  scene  reminded  me  of  the  Crawford  Notch  in  the 
White  Mountains.  Then  we  entered  a  wonderful  region  of  tunnels 
and  viaducts.  Before  stopping  for  lunch  we  passed  through  more 
than  ninety  tunnels,  fortunately  none  of  them  very  long.  For  an 
hour  we  averaged  a  tunnel  a  minute.  Finally  we  came  out  on  the 
western  slopes  of  the  mountains  and  the  view  became  inspiring. 
One  curve  looked  like  “Cape  Horn”  on  the  Central  Pacific  Rail¬ 
road. 

After  lunch  at  Victoria,  where  General  Castro  won  his  decisive 
victory  over  General  Matos  in  the  last  serious  revolution,  we  left 
the  hills  and  skirted  the  northern  shore  of  Lake  Valencia.  The 
appearance  of  the  lake  disappointed  us.  Its  islands  are  rather 
pretty,  but  one  reads  such  glowing  accounts  of  its  beauty  that  it 
was  surprising  to  find  the  views  we  got  of  it  so  unattractive.  On 
its  south  side  a  range  of  rather  barren  mountains  seems  to  rise  abruptly 
from  the  water.  The  railroad  skirts  the  north  shore,  but  at  such  a 
distance  that  the  lake  is  not  visible  much  of  the  time.  We  had, 


VALENCIA  AND  CARABOBO 


27 


however,  a  glimpse  of  the  tiny  steamboat  that  is  said  to  be  the  sole 
disturber  of  its  waters.  The  crazy  craft  did  not  look  as  though  it 
would  make  many  more  trips. 

There  was  little  foliage  on  the  plain  over  which  we  passed.  We 
saw  almost  no  grass  and  the  trees  and  bushes  looked  stunted  and 
burned.  The  coast  range  lies  at  some  distance  from  the  road  until, 
near  Valencia,  a  spur  comes  south  into  the  plain.  Shortly  before 
reaching  Valencia  the  train  stopped  abruptly  and  we  learned  that 
there  was  a  man  asleep  on  the  track. 

January  4th.  Valencia  resembles  Caracas  in  some  respects, 
much  as  a  French  provincial  capital  resembles  Paris.  One  sees  the 
same  kind  of  carriages,  but  they  are.  older  and  look  as  though  they 
had  been  bought  at  second  hand.  The  streets  are  not  as  clean  and 
few  houses  give  the  impression  of  prosperous  owners.  The  cathedral 
is  attractive  and  the  Plaza  Bolivar  is  quite  pretty. 

The  pleasant  Italian  priest,  Father  Voghera,  whom  we  met  on 
the  train  is  the  director  of  a  college  here.  With  several  of  his  Salesian 
brothers  he  founded  the  establishment  ten  years  ago,  having  come 
from  Turin  for  that  purpose.  The  college  accommodates  thirty 
boarders  and  ninety  day  scholars,  and  is  really  what  we  should  term 
an  academy  in  the  United  States.  It  has  a  small  theatre  and  a 
printing  office  where  the  boys  print  their  own  text-books. 

Valencia  is  the  capital  of  the  State  of  Carabobo.  This  morning 
we  presented  our  letter  of  introduction  to  the  President  of  the  State, 
or  the  Governor  as  we  should  style  him.  He  received  us  graciously 
but  appeared  to  be  much  troubled  by  our  request  for  information 
in  regard  to  the  battle-field  of  Carabobo.  In  fact  he  seemed  to  be 
suspicious  of  us  but  finally  gave  us  a  letter  to  the  Governor  of  the 
city  with  instructions  to  aid  us  in  securing  mules  for  our  journey. 

One  of  the  President’s  secretaries  showed  us  over  the  State  Capitol. 
It  is  a  fine  old  Spanish  monastery  and  was  used  as  a  convent  until 
thirty  years  ago,  when  President  Guzman  Blanco  converted  it  to  its 
present  purpose.  Near  it  are  the  University  and  the  barracks. 

January  6th.  We  have  been  trying  and  buying  mules.  As  we 
gallop  about  the  streets  on  the  animals  that  are  offered  for  purchase, 
we  are  quite  the  centre  of  interest,  but  the  citizens  are  very  friendly 
and  not  at  all  rude. 


28 


VENEZUELA 


Valencia,  Looking  North 


We  have  been  most  fortunate  in  making  the  acquaintance  of 
one  of  the  leading  citizens,  Don  Carlos  Stelling,  whose  maternal 
grandfather  fought  with  the  British  Legion  at  the  battle  of  Carabobo. 
He  owns  the  electric  light  plant  here  and  is  interested  in  various 
enterprises.  He  has  introduced  us  to  an  old  follower  of  his,  Antonio, 
a  typical  horse  trader,  very  plausible  but  a  little  too  sharp.  The 
latter  has  tried  very  hard  to  sell  us  a  number  of  mules,  some  with 
girth  sores  and  others  with  back  sores,  but  we  have  not  patronized 
him  as  yet. 

People  here  say  that  in  the  dry  season,  from  December  to  March, 
there  is  a  passable  cart  road  from  here  to  Barinas,  a  distance  of  about 
two  hundred  miles.  No  one  knows  what  kind  of  country  lies  be¬ 
tween  Barinas  and  Arauca  on  the  Colombia  frontier,  or  whether 
it  will  be  possible  to  take  a  cart  beyond  Barinas.  Our  friend  Don 
Carlos  thinks  that  we  will  be  able  to  do  so,  although  we  may  be  check¬ 
mated  by  some  of  the  rivers.  As  we  can  put  all  of  our  outfit  on  a 
light  cart,  where  it  will  be  much  safer  and  give  us  less  trouble  than 
if  transported  on  pack  mules,  we  have  decided  to  try  that  method 
as  far  as  it  is  practicable.  Don  Carlos  has  been  interesting  himself 
in  finding  out  what  is  known  about  the  battle-field  of  Carabobo. 
He  owns  a  pack  of  hounds  and  has  frequently  taken  them  to  hunt 
deer  and  peccaries  in  that  locality,  but  has  not  been  much  concerned 
with  its  history  heretofore.  He  says  that  one  of  his  hounds  is  “an 
English  setter  that  was  elevated  in  Denmark.” 


VALENCIA  AND  CARABOBO 


29 


from  the  Tower  of  the  Cathedral. 


January  8th.  We  have  finally  purchased  five  saddle  mules,  at 
prices  varying  from  sixty-five  dollars  to  one  hundred  dollars. 

The  leading  commercial  house  here  is  a  branch  of  the  Bloehm 
Company,  a  German  concern  that  controls  more  business  than  any 
other  house  in  Venezuela.  From  them  we  have  obtained  a  letter 
of  credit  to  one  of  their  correspondents  in  Guanare,  so  that  we  shall 
not  be  obliged  to  carry  all  our  money  with  us. 

In  Caracas,  and  to  a  certain  extent  in  Valencia,  Venezuelan  bank 
notes  are  accepted  without  question,  but  we  are  told  that  paper  cur¬ 
rency  does  not  pass  at  all  in  the  interior  and  that  we  must  have  gold 
and  silver.  The  current  gold  coins  are  called  onzas,  ounces,  and 
are  valued  at  $16.40.  Most  of  them  are  handsome  old  Spanish 
doubloons  bearing  eighteenth-century  dates,  but  there  are  a  few 
Mexican,  Peruvian,  and  Colombian  coins.  All  the  silver  is  Venezue¬ 
lan  but  we  have  not  seen  a  single  Venezuelan  gold  piece  so  far. 
Although  the  unit  coin  is  the  silver  bolivar  (twenty  cents),  one  rarely 
hears  that  term.  Small  sums  are  given  in  reals  (ten  cents).  Larger 
amounts  are  given  in  pesos  (eighty  cents).  In  Caracas  one  commonly 
hears  the  word  fuerte,  which  is  the  term  applied  to  the  largest  silver 
coin,  worth  about  a  dollar.  In  buying  mules  we  have  heard  another 
term,  marocote,  a  $20  gold  piece. 

Today  we  had  some  trouble  with  a  man  who  sold  us  three  of 
the  mules.  He  claims  we  ought  to  pay  him  a  commission  of  $15, 
over  and  above  the  price  agreed  upon  and  paid  for  the  mules.  He 


3° 


VENEZUELA 


finally  had  to  be  kicked  out  of  the  hotel.  The  proprietor  of  the  hotel 
is  an  Italian  who  has  travelled  in  Madagascar,  Australia,  China,  and 
California.  Six  years  ago  he  had  the  bad  judgment  to  buy  this 
property,  so  that  his  wanderings  appear  to  have  ceased.  The  rooms 
are  almost  entirely  neglected  but  the  table  is  excellent. 

January  gth.  We  have  purchased  a  strong  cart  and  a  good 

solid  cart  mule  for  Si  40,  and 
engaged  as  cartman,  Rafael 
Rivas,  a  Venezuelan  peon 
recommended  to  us  by  Don 
Carlos.  He  says  he  has  been 
as  far  as  Barinas  once  and 
agrees  to  accompany  us  to 
Arauca  if  we  can  possibly 
get  the  cart  that  far.  Our 
helpers  now  consist  of  Josh 
and  Richard,  the  two  negroes 
who  joined  us  at  Caracas,  and 
Rafael  the  cartman.  We 
have  completed  all  our  pur¬ 
chases  and  hope  to  start  early 
tomorrow. 

January  10 th.  We  rose 
at  six  so  as  to  be  packed 
when  the  cart  should  come. 
It  had  been  promised  for 
seven  o'clock,  but  as  was  to 
be  expected  in  this  country 
it  did  not  arrive  on  time. 
Rafael  came  at  eight.  The 
cart  had  not  yet  appeared  so 
he  desired  to  “go  back  and 
say  good-by  again”  to  his  family.  The  result  was  that  the  cart  did 
not  get  away  from  Valencia  until  eleven. 

We  started  after  lunch.  Don  Carlos,  according  to  the  old  Span¬ 
ish  custom,  mounted  his  best  horse  and  accompanied  us  some  dis¬ 
tance  out  of  the  city.  After  leaving  Valencia  the  road  passes  over 


Plaza  Bolivar,  Valencia. 


VALENCIA  AND  CARABOBO 


31 


a  plain  covered  with  chapparal,  little  grass  and  small  stunted  trees. 
Behind  us  to  the  north,  east,  and  west  the  mountains  surround 
Valencia.  They  are  not  forested  and  have  been  dissected  by  erosion 
in  an  interesting  manner. 

Half-way  from  Valencia  to  Carabobo  is  the  village  of  Tocuyito 
where  General  Castro  won  his  first  important  battle.  He  had  raised 
a  small  army  in  the  Andes  which  was  augmented  as  he  marched 
eastward  against  Caracas.  At  Tocuyito  he  was  met  by  the  Govern¬ 
ment  forces,  who  greatly  outnumbered  him.  Night  fell  before  the 
battle  was  decided,  and  he  was  considering  the  necessity  of  with¬ 
drawing  in  the  face  of  superior  numbers  when  he  learned  that  the 
Government  troops  were  already  in  precipitate  flight,  leaving  him 
master  of  the  situation.  To  commemorate  this  victory  he  has  had 
a  striking  monument  erected  on  the  plaza. 

From  Tocuyito  our  road  continued  southward  over  the  plains  of 
Carabobo.  Four  hours  after  leaving  Valencia  we  reached  a  posada 
or  inn  near  the  battle-field.  It  is  kept  by  a  picturesque  old  fellow 
named  Don  Leonte,  who  is  an  ideal  host  and  takes  excellent  care 
of  his  guests.  The  inn  is  a  clean  little  establishment  and  enjoys  a 
good  trade,  as  nearly  all  travellers  to  and  from  the  Llanos  and  the 
Andes  stop  here  for  a  meal  or  two.  There  is  only  one  sleeping-room, 
but  it  is  large  and  furnished  with  a  dozen  canvas  cots  which  seem 
to  be  entirely  free  from  fleas. 

It  is  very  curious  that  no  one  has  ever  made  even  a  rough  sketch 
of  this  battle-field.1  Although  many  Spanish  writers  have  treated 
of  the  battle,  in  which  nearly  twelve  thousand  men  were  engaged 
and  the  fate  of  Venezuelan  independence  decided,  no  plan  of  it  has 
hitherto  been  published  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  discover.  Tra¬ 
ditions  differ  very  much  as  to  the  place  where  certain  things  hap¬ 
pened  during  the  battle,  and  it  is  to  be  our  business  to  try  and 
determine,  if  possible,  their  actual  location. 

January  nth.  The  cart  arrived  late  last  evening  and  this 
morning  we  started  out  to  find  a  suitable  location  for  a  camp.  A 
mile  southwest  of  the  inn  we  came  to  the  white  obelisk  which  has 
been  erected  by  Castro’s  Government  to  commemorate  the  battle 
of  1821.  After  some  reconnoitring  we  found  an  excellent  location 

1  For  an  account  of  the  battle  see  Appendix  B. 


32 


VENEZUELA 


Battle-field  of  Carabobo 


for  a  permanent  camp  four  miles  south  of  the  monument  in  the  valley 
of  Naipe.  It  is  close  to  the  road  and  sheltered  from  it  by  a  grove 
of  orange  trees.  Less  than  twenty  feet  away  is  a  clear  little  stream 
and  not  far  off  are  a  few  thatched  huts  where  we  can  secure  eggs, 
fowls,  and  are  pa  (maize  cake),  the  staple  of  this  part  of  Venezuela. 

January  12th.  As  the  camp  is  two  thousand  feet  above  the  sea, 
the  night  was  very  cool  and  extremely  clear.  Jupiter  was  so  brilliant 
that  it  woke  me  up  and  for  a  moment  I  thought  some  one  had 
lighted  a  lantern  outside  the  tent. 

This  morning,  guided  by  a  one-eyed  old  vagabond  named  “Ber¬ 
nardo  the  Bohemian,”  I  went  in  search  of  points  of  historic  interest. 
For  miles  in  every  direction  the  region  is  a  perfect  maze  of  hills  and 
valleys.  There  are  not  many  trees  but  the  slopes  are  covered  with 
such  rank  high  grass  and  dense  bush  foliage  that  it  is  almost  impos¬ 
sible  to  go  anywhere  except  on  the  paths,  which  are  most  confusing. 
It  is  to  be  our  task  to  make  a  map  and  attempt  to  locate  definitely 
the  important  points.  Bernardo  took  me  first  to  Buenavista,  which 
commands  an  extensive  prospect  in  every  direction.  The  old  bridle 
path  from  Tinaquillo  passes  over  it  and  from  here  Bolivar  studied 
the  Spanish  position  and  settled  on  his  plan  of  battle.  Our  most 
serious  problem  is  to  find  the  trail  by  which  the  British  Legion  was 
able  to  thread  the  mazes  of  the  hills,  avoid  the  main  road  and  reach 
the  Spanish  flank. 

January  13th.  Our  good  friend  Don  Carlos  rode  out  from 


VALENCIA  AND  CARABOBO 


33 


from  the  Southeast. 


Valencia  last  evening  and  called  on  us  at  the  camp  soon  after  four 
o’clock  this  morning.  He  has  brought  several  friends  with  him  for 
one  of  his  weekly  hunts,  but  says  that  he  is  going  to  combine  historical 
research  with  search  for  deer.  We  had  an  exciting  hunt  soon  after 
sunrise.  The  method  is  to  surround  a  promising  little  valley  with 
hunters  carrying  shotguns,  placed  sufficiently  far  apart  so  that  there 
is  no  danger  of  their  hitting  one  another  with  stray  shot.  Then  six 
or  eight  of  the  hounds  are  sent  into  the  valley  with  two  or  three 
beaters,  and  the  deer,  if  one  is  there,  is  driven  out.  As  the  deer 
comes  from  cover  in  running  jumps  it  is  more  than  likely  to  get 
through  the  cordon  of  hunters. 

After  the  hunt  we  breakfasted  at  Don  Leonte’s  on  thick  soup, 
beef  stew,  fried  eggs,  fried  plantains,  maize  cakes,  doughnuts,  and 
coffee,  the  fare  that  we  are  destined  to  have  at  all  the  inns  as  far  as 
Barinas. 

January  i/\th.  This  morning  the  hunters  joined  us  in  historical 
research.  We  traversed  overgrown  trails,  plunged  through  banana 
plantations  and  made  our  way  through  deep  gulches  and  over  steep 
hillsides,  where  several  of  the  hunters  were  obliged  to  dismount  in 
following  a  route  said  to  have  been  that  used  by  General  Paez  and 
the  British  Legion,  but  we  have  all  agreed  that  they  could  not  possibly 
have  come  this  way.  It  is  far  too  difficult  and  would  have  required 
more  time  than  they  took. 

On  our  ride  we  conversed  with  an  old  woman  who  appeared  to 


34 


VENEZUELA 


Where  the  British  Legion  Formed  at  Carabobo. 


VALENCIA  AND  CARABOBO 


35 


be  about  seventy  years  old.  She  declared  that  she  had  a  clear  recol¬ 
lection  of  the  battle  of  Carabobo  as  she  was  “living  here  at  the  time 
and  was  eleven  years  old”!  Later  in  the  day  we  met  another  old 
resident  who  looked  to  be  at  least  eighty,  and  who  said  his  mother 
was  nine  years  old  at  the  time  of  the  battle,  and  that  the  old  lady  we 
had  met  earlier  in  the  day  was  not  as  old  as  he,  instead  of  being 
ninety-five  as  she  claims.  Nearly  all  these  people  know  of  the  flank 
movement  of  General  Paez,  and  most  of  them  claim  that  it  took 
place  through  their  own  little  valley  or  over  the  path  that  goes  past 
their  particular  thatched  hut. 

January  15 th.  Another  hunt  this  morning  included  the  trails 
both  of  deer  and  revolutionary  generals.  We  saw  no  deer  although 
we  enjoyed  the  excitement  of  hearing  the  baying  of  the  dogs  and  the 
curious  cries  and  shouts  of  the  beaters  encouraging  them.  We  had 
a  hunt  breakfast  at  Don  Leonte’s  tavern  and  a  good  siesta  before  the 
hunters  returned  to  Valencia. 

January  16 th.  The  average  daily  range  of  temperature  seems 
to  be  about  30°.  The  coldest  time  is  just  before  sunrise  and  the 
warmest  at  2  p.m.  At  half-past  six  this  morning  the  thermometer 
was  55°F.  In  six  hours  it  had  reached  9i°F.  During  the  day  there 
is  nearly  always  a  gentle  breeze,  but  the  nights  are  clear,  calm,  and 
cold. 

This  morning  Don  Alfredo  Pietri,  who  owns  more  than  twenty- 
five  square  miles  of  land  in  this  vicinity,  came  to  show  us  a  trail  that 
he  considers  must  be  the  one  used  by  the  British  Legion.  It  an¬ 
swers  all  the  requirements  and  we  feel  satisfied  that  at  last  we  have 
solved  the  mystery.  We  found  on  the  battle-field  the  barrel  of  an 
old-fashioned  pistol;  also  a  number  of  large  white  snail  shells,  three 
or  four  inches  long  ( Bulimus  oblongus ). 

January  20 th.  We  have  been  at  Carabobo  longer  than  we  in¬ 
tended,  but  I  have  been  able  to  visit  the  points  of  interest  three 
or  four  times  and  become  well  acquainted  with  the  battle-field.  I 
have  spent  most  of  my  time  exploring  the  numerous  paths  that  wind 
through  the  valleys  and  making  sketches  from  the  hilltops.  While 
in  Valencia  I  received  a  call  from  a  distinguished  Venezuelan  his¬ 
torian  who  has  written  about  the  battle.  He  was  kind  enough  to 
give  me  an  hour’s  lecture  on  the  subject  of  Carabobo.  At  its  close 


36 


VENEZUELA 


I  asked  him  whether  he  had  ever  explored  the  battle-field  and  made 
a  study  of  its  topography.  He  replied  “  no,  that  was  not  necessary 
as  I  have  read  the  documents.”  He  admitted  that  he  had  passed  it 
once  when  riding  into  the  interior,  but  said  he  understood  the  battle 
perfectly.  It  makes  us  feel  as  though  we  must  be  very  stupid  in¬ 
deed  to  have  taken  ten  days  to  unravel  the  puzzle  presented  by  the 
conflicting  traditions  and  the  lack  of  maps  and  plans  of  the  battle! 

Our  study  of  the  topography  of  the  region  has  led  me  to  adopt 
the  version  of  the  battle  which  is  given  in  the  Appendix.  It  seems 
to  us  as  though  the  Spaniards  could  have  done  much  better  if  they 
had  attempted  to  hold  the  passes  in  the  hills  instead  of  allowing  the 
patriot  army  to  reach  the  plain  without  being  molested.  Yet  the 
position  which  the  Spaniards  took  at  the  edge  of  the  plain  is  much 
stronger  than  one  would  imagine.  There  is  room  for  only  a  small 
number  of  men  to  deploy  on  to  the  plain  from  the  valley  of  Naipe 
and  these  could  easily  have  been  driven  back  by  the  Spanish  infantry 
and  artillery  had  the  flank  attack  been  unsuccessful.  It  must  be 
admitted  that  the  British  Legion  won  the  battle  with  their  courageous 
hollow  square.  At  the  same  time  the  credit  for  the  strategy  that 
divided  the  Spanish  forces  and  finally  outflanked  their  main  army 
rests  with  Bolivar. 


CHAPTER  III 


Carabobo  to  Barinas 

January  21st.  Early  this  morning  we  broke  camp  and  left 
the  charming  little  valley  of  Naipe  where  we  have  been  for  ten  days. 
In  order  to  make  good  headway  in  the  cool  of  the  morning  we  rose 
a  little  before  four,  but  it  was  almost  seven  when  we  succeeded  in 
getting  off.  At  the  time  this  seemed  most  extraordinary;  but  we 
learned  before  long  that  in  this  part  of  the  world  one  must  allow 
from  two  to  three  hours  every  morning  for  the  business  of  breakfast, 
packing,  and  saddling. 

Our  party  now  consists  of  four  men  besides  ourselves:  Josh 
Obadiah  Nero,  chief  cook,  Richard  Harvey,  general  utility  man, 
Rafael  Rivas,  cartman,  and  Waldemera,  a  pleasant-faced  Venezuelan 
boy,  twenty  years  old,  a  friend  of  Rafael  who  has  voluntarily  attached 
himself  to  the  expedition  “to  keep  Rafael  company  and  see  the 
world.”  Four  of  us  are  mounted,  but  the  two  peons  must  walk  as 
far  as  the  cart  goes. 

We  reached  the  Chirgua  River  in  an  hour,  after  passing  over 
very  rough  roads  through  a  well-watered  hilly  country  where  we  saw 
many  roadside  pulperias  (small  taverns)  and  other  evidences  of  a 
numerous  population.  An  hour  later  we  left  the  green  hills  for  the 
chap  par  al  covered  plain  of  Tinaquillo  where  Bolivar  held  his  grand 
review  the  day  before  the  battle  of  Carabobo.  As  no  rain  had  fallen 
for  over  a  month,  the  plain  was  hot  and  dusty.  After  two  leagues 
of  this  we  crossed  the  sluggish  little  Guayavita  and  entered  the  out¬ 
skirts  of  Tinaquillo,  a  struggling  town  with  two  inns,  a  few  shops, 
and  the  ruins  of  a  new  church.  The  roof  of  the  church  fell  in  dur¬ 
ing  a  heavy  thunder  shower,  so  that  the  building  collapsed  before 
it  was  consecrated.  Its  white  tower  still  stands,  however,  and  is  a 
good  landmark.  We  had  seen  it  from  Buenavista,  where  Bolivar 
got  his  first  glimpse  of  the  Spanish  army  drawn  up  on  the  plain  of 

37 


38 


VENEZUELA 


Fording  the  Chirgua  River. 

Carabobo.  We  spent  the  heat  of  the  day  here  at  a  comfortable 
little  inn  and  left  shortly  before  three.  A  league  beyond  Tinaquillo 
the  road  left  the  plain  and  made  its  way  painfully  through  a  range 
of  barren  hills.  Shortly  before  dark  we  reached  the  solitary  inn  of 
Guamita. 

The  poor  cart  mule  is  having  a  very  hard  time.  Rafael  leads 
him  carefully  with  his  hand  on  the  rein  close  to  the  bit,  while  “  Walde- 
mar”  pushes  the  cart  from  behind.  When  an  unusually  large  rock, 


The  Plain  of  Tinaquillo. 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


39 


perhaps  as  big  as  the  cart  itself,  obstructs  the  narrow  road  on  a  steep 
up  grade,  the  amount  of  navigating  and  shouting  that  has  to  be  done 
is  extraordinary,  but  not  so  remarkable  as  the  fact  that  the  cart 
eventually  surmounts  the  obstacle,  and  that  the  mule  continues  to 
live.  In  the  rainy  season  carts  do  not  attempt  to  pass  this  way  at 
all.  Fortunately  another  day  will  get  us  out  of  the  hills  to  the  edge 
of  the  great  Llanos,  where  the  road  is  said  to  be  “as  smooth  as  a 
billiard  table.” 


Rafael  and  Waldemera. 


January  22 d.  The  innkeeper  is  a  jolly  old  fellow,  quite  a 
gentleman,  but  his  man-of-all-work  is  a  thorough-going  rascal  who 
charged  us  double  and  treble  for  all  that  we  had. 

A  league  beyond  Guamita  we  crossed  the  Rio  Tamanaco  and 
after  another  league  the  Macapo.  Both  are  clear  streams  of  moder¬ 
ate  size  about  sixty  to  one  hundred  feet  across  and  two  feet  deep  at 
this  time  of  the  year.  We  saw  many  small  fishes  in  each  stream. 
Birds  are  abundant;  parrots  and  paroquets,  blackbirds,  orioles, 
buzzards,  “scissors  birds”  and  many  others.  We  passed  numerous 
huts  with  palm-thatched  roofs,  mud-plastered  wattled  walls,  and  dirt 


4° 


VENEZUELA 


floors.  Each  hut  seemed  to  have  its  own  pigs,  chickens,  and  naked 
infants. 

We  stopped  for  breakfast  at  “El  Salto,”  a  posada  named  after 
the  falls  of  the  Tinaco  half  a  mile  away.  The  ten-year-old  son  of 
the  proprietor,  a  pleasant  little  fellow,  had  accompanied  us  from 
Tinaquillo.  He  now  acted  as  Ganymede  and  served  us  with  cool 
Caracas  lager  on  a  tray  with  clean  napkins!  His  people  seemed  to 
be  of  good  stock,  with  blue  eyes  and  good  manners,  but  their  inn  was 
of  the  poorest  class,  scarcely  more  than  a  pul per ia. 


El  Salto  de  Tinaco. 


There  are  two  distinct  falls  near  here,  the  upper  one  ten  feet 
and  the  lower  one  about  forty  feet  in  height.  The  ravine  which 
has  been  cut  by  the  falls  is  about  half  a  mile  long.  Rapids  extend 
for  some  miles  further  and  there  are  many  pools  and  small  falls. 
The  banks  are  well  wooded  and  the  region  supports  a  moderately 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


41 


large  population.  The  river  is  stocked  with  fish  from  eight  to  eighteen 
inches  long.  They  jump  the  smaller  falls  and  the  local  fishermen 
suspend  baskets  from  the  rocks  to  catch  those  that  make  poor  jumps. 
We  saw  a  few  baskets  suspended  over  the  rapids  lower  down  the  river. 
The  surroundings  are  wild  and  picturesque,  and  the  whole  scene  is 


The  Tinaco  Falls. 


most  attractive,  except  for  the  fact  that  a  number  of  lepers  and  other 
beggars  have  built  little  shelters  on  the  road  in  the  vicinity,  where 
they  can  tell  their  pitiful  tales  to  the  traveller  who  halts  to  enjoy  the 
view  of  the  falls.  Whether  the  presence  of  these  lepers  here  bears 
any  relation  to  the  quantities  of  fish  in  the  river  and  the  fact  that 
fish  forms  a  large  part  of  the  local  diet,  is  a  question.  About  eight 
miles  beyond  the  falls  the  road  climbs  out  of  the  valley,  crosses  some 
low  hills,  and  descends  on  to  the  plain  of  Tinaco. 

The  cart  road  is  the  worst  I  have  ever  seen.  Enormous  ruts, 
treacherous  mud-holes,  bogs,  steep  grades,  ledges  of  rock  that 
should  have  been  blasted  when  the  road  was  made,  all  together 
detract  considerably  from  Rafael’s  enjoyment  of  the  scenery.  The 
cart  mule  was  about  “all  in”  when  he  reached  Tinaco. 


42 


VENEZUELA 


January  2 3d.  Tinaco  is  on  the  northern  edge  of  the  great  Llanos, 
about  a  league  south  of  the  hills.  Here  the  road  from  Valencia 
diverges  to  the  Eastern  and  East  Central  Llanos,  to  San  Fernando 
de  Apure  and  the  Central  and  Southern  Llanos,  and  to  San  Carlos, 
the  \\  estern  Llanos,  and  the  Andean  Provinces.  Consequentlv  it 
has  several  inns,  one  hotel,  and  a  number  of  well-stocked  shops. 
When  the  world  is  sufficiently  crowded  to  make  it  necessary  to  irri¬ 
gate  the  Llanos  and  use  them  for  agricultural  instead  of  grazing  pur¬ 
poses,  Tinaco  will  probably  wake  up  and  amount  to  something  and 
the  attractive  falls  will  be  used  for  grist-mills. 


Fish-Baskets  on  the  Tinaco. 


This  morning  we  turned  westward.  The  road  to  San  Carlos 
crosses  a  succession  of  small  rivulets  with  wooded  banks  and  grassy 
savannas.  We  saw  scores  of  small  pigeons  ( Zenaida  vinaceo  riefa) 
by  the  roadside.  The  most  frequent  animals  are  the  lizards.  They 
are  of  all  sizes.  The  largest  variety,  about  a  foot  in  length,  has  the 
fastest  movements  of  any  animal  I  have  ever  seen.  It  runs  like  a 
streak  of  lightning,  although  rarely  for  more  than  a  couple  of  rods. 

The  view  of  the  domes  and  spires  of  San  Carlos  which  one  gets 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


43 


from  the  plain  has  been  spoken  of  by  Duane  and  other  travellers, 
and  it  is  as  attractive  as  ever.  As  we  entered  the  long  street  which 
is  now  almost  the  only  inhabited  part  of  a  city  that  once  boasted  a 
population  of  thirty  thousand  souls,  we  met  half  a  dozen  carts  loaded 
with  hides  and  bound  for  Valencia.  There  are  two  barracks  in  the 
town  and  a  few  companies  of  sad-eyed  conscripts.  If  ever  men 


Bolivar’s  Headquarters  at  San  Carlos. 

envied  us  our  liberty,  they  did.  A  cloth  sign  hanging  across  the  road 
indicated  the  whereabouts  of  the  “Hotel  Central,”  once  a  fine  old 
residence  with  an  attractive  patio.  We  found  that  it  was  the  tempo¬ 
rary  home  of  half  a  dozen  bureaucrats  who  have  lived  here  since 
the  capital  of  the  State  of  Zamora  has  been  transferred  to  San  Carlos 
from  Guanare.  They  did  not  relish  our  presence  at  the  table  and 
tried  to  show  us  by  their  rude  manners  that  they  were  not  like  the 
ordinary  country  folk,  who  are  very  polite. 

In  the  days  of  Bolivar  this  was  a  fine  city.  Before  the  march 
to  Tinaquillo  and  Carabobo  in  1821  he  was  entertained  here  by 
General  Manriquez  in  a  palatial  dwelling  that  covered  a  city  block. 


44 


VENEZUELA 


Some  of  its  walls  are  still  standing  and  one  corner  has  recently  been 
roofed  over  for  a  butcher  shop.  Earthquakes,  revolutions,  and  cattle 
plagues  have  reduced  San  Carlos  so  low  that  even  the  addition  of 
politicians,  bureaucrats,  and  soldiers  give  it  barely  two  thousand 
people.  Never  in  America  have  I  seen  such  picturesque  ruins.  A 

gateway  with  a  Latin  in¬ 
scription  on  a  panel  over 
the  lintel  made  one  think 
of  Rome;  while  the  Casa 
Blanqueria  with  its 
painted  frescoes,  elabo¬ 
rate  reliefs,  carved  ceil¬ 
ings,  and  tiled  floors 
reminded  me  of  Pompeii. 
Its  exterior  is  decorated 
with  Inca  caryatides,  but 
the  interior  is  the  present 
abode  of  pigs  and  chick¬ 
ens  and  their  poverty- 
stricken  masters. 

The  plaza  of  San  Car¬ 
los  is  a  sad  sight,  — not 
a  tree  or  a  shrub,  simply 
the  ruins  of  concrete 
walks  to  show  that  it 
once  had  been  a  fine 
square.  We  were  told 
by  a  local  antiquary  that 
it  had  once  been  sur¬ 
rounded  on  three  sides 
by  two-story  houses,  only  two  of  which  are  now  standing.  The 
fourth  side  is  still  occupied  by  a  large  church;  but  the  whole  aspect 
of  the  place  is  very  depressing. 

January  24 th.  We  left  San  Carlos  this  morning.  Our  road, 
instead  of  skirting  the  plains  as  we  had  been  led  to  suppose,  lav 
through  some  low  hills.  A  league  beyond  San  Carlos  we  entered 
the  village  of  San  Jose.  It  had  a  few  fine  houses  a  hundred  years 


Ruined  Gateway. 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


45 


ago,  but  these  are  now  in  ruins  and  overgrown  with  vines  and  shrubs, 
while  twenty  wretched  huts  and  a  wayside  pulperia  are  all  that  keep 
San  Jose  in  existence. 

The  banks  of  all  the  streams  are  thickly  wooded,  chiefly  with 
bamboo.  This  is  cut  for  various  purposes,  chiefly  to  make  fences 
and  wattles  for  the  mud  huts.  The  wooded  streams  are  so  frequent 
hereabouts  that  the  road  continually  appears  to  cross  savannas 
that  are  surrounded  by  forests.  It  is  hard  to  realize  that  the  woods 


Casa  Blanqueria,  San  Carlos. 


are  rarely  more  than  an  eighth  of  a  mile  across.  There  are  many 
little  paths  that  lead  off  to  ranches.  Richard  and  I  followed  one 
this  morning,  mistaking  it  for  the  highway.  Passing  through  a 
grove  of  mango  trees  we  presently  reached  a  small  sugar  plantation 
and  the  most  primitive  sugar  mill  I  had  ever  seen.  It  had  no  roof, 
although  it  only  takes  these  people  a  couple  of  days  to  put  a  palm- 
thatched  roof  over  anything.  A  primitive  windlass  turned  the 
central  vertical  roller,  and  this,  by  rude  wooden  cogs,  caused  two 
other  rollers  to  rotate.  The  furnace  for  boiling  the  juice  and  the 
moulds  for  making  “papelon”  were  only  a  few  feet  from  the  rollers. 


46 


VENEZUELA 


The  fuel  was  dry  cane  tops  and  bagasse.  The  windlass  was  of  “one 
horse-power”  or,  to  be  more  exact,  one  “ox  power.” 

On  the  road  today  we  met  a  fine  wild  bull  on  his  way  to  the 
Sunday  bull-fight  in  Caracas.  His  head  was  completely  tied  up  in  a 
sack.  Only  his  nose  protruded  and  this  was  fastened  by  a  rawhide 


The  Plaza  at  San  Carlos. 


lasso,  passed  through  a  hole  in  the  cartilage,  to  the  tail  of  a  horse 
forty  feet  in  front  of  the  poor  bull.  On  the  horse  rode  a  Llanero 
whose  mournful  whistle,  oft  repeated,  announced  the  approach  of  a 
wild  animal,  served  to  pacify  the  bull  and  encouraged  him  to  pro¬ 
ceed.  In  driving  cattle  across  the  plains  one  Llanero  usually  rides 
ahead  and  with  this  same  mournful  whistle  bids  the  cattle  follow 
him.  Another  cowboy  rode  behind  the  bull,  likewise  to  encourage 
his  orderly  march  towards  Caracas. 

A  familiar  sight  from  the  road  is  the  grass  fires,  set  by  anyone 
with  a  match  to  spare  who  wishes  to  see  dry  grass  and  bushes  burn. 
No  one  watches  these  fires  and  sometimes  they  burn  for  days.  It 
is  an  old  custom  and  benefits  the  country  by  keeping  the  grass  short 
and  sweet,  killing  snakes  and  noxious  insects,  and  keeping  the  trails 
open.  At  night  the  fires  look  like  lava  flows.  The  birds  have  long 
since  learned  to  watch  the  fires  and  hover  in  the  bushes  and  on  the 
ground  just  ahead  of  the  flames  looking  for  all  the  little  animals 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


47 


and  insects  that  are  driven  from  their  homes.  Sometimes  we  saw 
thirty  or  forty  birds,  including  half  a  dozen  large  hawks,  attending 
to  this  ceremony. 

During  the  afternoon  we  saw  two  small  red  deer,  Odocoileus 
gymnotus.  They  noticed  us  first  and  bounded  away  over  the  savanna, 
their  white  tails  flying  the  danger  signal.  When  about  four  hun¬ 
dred  yards  away,  they  paused  a  moment  to  satisfy  their  curiosity 
before  entering  the  jungle,  and  I  wished  that  my  rifle  had  not  been 
packed  in  the  cart.  This  jungle  is  in  the  flood  plain  of  the  Camoruco 
River  and  extends  for  more  than  a  mile  from  its  left  bank.  Here 
I  saw  for  the  first  time  wonderful  ant  roads,  as  wide  as  sheep  paths, 
and  thousands  of  the  workers,  half  an  inch  long,  hurrying  along  on 
their  highway  in  a  most  business-like  manner. 


A  San  Jose  Sugar  Mill. 

January  25 th.  About  five  o’clock  last  evening  Richard  and  I, 
riding  ahead  of  the  rest  of  the  party,  reached  the  posada  near  the 
ford  over  the  Camoruco.  As  we  supposed  the  village  of  Cojedes 
to  be  only  a  league  beyond,  we  decided  not  to  stop,  although  the 
innkeeper  assured  us  it  was  over  two  leagues  away.  A  boy  who 
was  bathing  a  horse  in  the  river  said  it  was  only  one  and  his  opinion 
was  confirmed  by  a  man  in  a  garden  a  few  rods  beyond  the  river. 


48 


VENEZUELA 


The  next  man  we  met  said  it  was  two  leagues  and  a  half,  but  we  chose 
to  think  him  in  collusion  with  the  innkeeper  to  detain  us  over  night, 
and  pressed  on.  The  road  soon  entered  a  wild  hilly  region  but  kept 
turning  northward.  We  knew  Cojedes  lay  to  the  southwest  and 
looked  in  vain  for  a  left  turn  or  fork  in  the  road.  It  grew  darker 
until  we  could  see  only  a  few  rods  ahead.  Hoping  every  minute  to 
see  the  lights  of  a  house,  we  kept  on  for  two  leagues  until  the  bark¬ 
ing  of  dogs  told  us  we  were  near  some  habitation.  It  turned  out  to 
be  a  little  hut  or  rancheria.  There  were  no  lights  burning,  it  was 
after  eight  o’clock,  and  the  inhabitants  had  all  retired  except  four 
or  five  large  dogs  that  seemed  ready  to  eat  us  alive.  I  raised  my 
voice  loud  enough  to  be  heard  over  the  din  of  the  barking  and  called 
out  “Amigos !  ”  (Friends.)  No  answer.  “Amigos  !  ”  — in  my  most 
pleading  tones.  “What  is  it?”  —  a  timid  shout  from  the  hut.  “Can 
you  tell  us  how  far  it  is  to  Cojedes?”  “Two  leagues  and  a  half!” 
“But  we  were  told  that  three  hours  ago.”  “You  are  on  the  wrong 
road.”  “Alas!  then  we  are  lost  and  have  nothing  to  eat  and  nowhere 
to  sleep.”  Finally  the  frightened  householder  came  out  with  two 
other  men  and  a  lantern,  inspected  us  and  agreed  to  give  us  eggs  and 
coffee  and  the  mules  some  corn.  We  were  not  allowed  to  enter  the 
hut,  but  had  to  shift  for  ourselves  in  the  thatched  shelter  outside. 
We  had  no  blankets.  The  wind  was  cold.  Sleep  was  out  of  the 
question.  The  mules  kept  munching  corn  for  hours.  Dogs  and 
burros  came  to  satisfy  their  curiosity  or  steal  the  mules’  provender. 
Finally  at  half-past  three  we  got  up,  saddled,  and  rode  two  leagues 
to  the  hamlet  of  Apartaderos. 

Here  the  trail  from  Barquisimeto  to  Cojedes,  two  leagues  south 
of  us,  crosses  the  main  road.  We  now  discovered  that  travellers 
rarely  pass  through  Cojedes  and  that  we  had  followed  the  main  road 
quite  properly.  Carts  going  to  Barquisimeto  continue  to  Acarigua, 
but  travellers  on  horseback  turn  to  the  right  here  and  go  by  way  of 
the  pass  of  El  Altar,  as  was  done  by  Colonel  Duane  and  the  anony¬ 
mous  author  of  “Letters  written  from  Colombia  during  a  journey 
from  Caracas  to  Bogota  in  1823”  (London,  1824). 

As  we  crossed  the  Cojedes  River  I  saw  for  the  first  time  a  flock 
of  macaws.  There  are  few  more  striking  sights  than  a  dozen  or 
twenty  macaws  flying  rapidly  in  the  morning  light  from  their  roosts 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


49 


to  their  feeding-grounds,  screaming  the  while  at  the  top  of  their 
lungs. 

San  Rafael,  one  of  at  least  three  villages  of  that  name  in  Vene¬ 
zuela,  lies  half  a  mile  west  of  the  Cojedes,  just  beyond  the  flood 
plain.  From  here  we  caught  our  first  glimpse  of  the  Andes,  far 
away  to  the  westward. 


Crossing  the  Cojedes  River. 


The  village  of  Agua  Blanca,  our  next  stop,  lies  in  the  midst  of  an 
excellent  cattle  country,  and  there  are  a  few  small  sugar  plantations 
in  the  neighbourhood.  At  the  inn  where  we  spent  the  hottest  four 
hours  of  the  day,  I  met  an  intelligent  cattle  owner  who  was  very 
anxious  to  hear  all  about  our  journey  and  the  reasons  for  it.  It 
was  quite  incredible  to  him  that  two  private  citizens  of  the  United 
States  should  take  the  trouble  to  cross  Venezuela  on  a  scientific 
mission  unless  paid  to  do  so  by  their  Government.  His  idea,  based 
on  his  own  experience  in  driving  cattle  from  one  part  of  Venezuela 
to  another,  was  that  all  scientific  work  must  be  subsidized  by  the 
Government.  Therefore,  since  it  was  quite  beyond  reason  that  we 
should  be  paying  for  this  expedition  ourselves  and  as  we  did  not 
pretend  that  the  Venezuelan  Government  was  subsidizing  it,  the  only 
possible  conclusion  in  his  mind  was  that  its  cost  was  paid  by  the 
United  States.  He  was  most  insistent  to  know  “why  our  Govern¬ 
ment  had  sent  us.”  “Was  it  contemplating  taking  Venezuela  next 


5° 


VENEZUELA 


after  Panama?”  “Of  course  no  government  would  pay  for  the 
exploration  of  another  country,  unless  it  had  ideas  of  territorial 
aggrandizement.”  As  I  persisted  in  denying  both  his  premises  and 
his  conclusions,  he  decided  I  must  be  a  spy  or  an  army  officer  in  dis¬ 
guise.  He  was  not  the  only  Venezuelan  that  arrived  at  this  enter¬ 
taining  conclusion,  but  he  was  more  frank  about  it  than  most  of 
the  others. 

To  suspect  travellers  of  being  emissaries  of  their  governments  is 
an  Oriental  and  also  a  Spanish  trait.  Richard  Ford  says  in  his 
“Gatherings  from  Spain”:  “Nor  can  Spaniards  at  all  understand 
why  any  man  should  incur  trouble  and  expense,  which  no  native 
ever  does,  for  the  mere  purpose  of  acquiring  knowledge  of  foreign 
countries  or  for  his  own  private  improvement  or  amusement.” 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon’s  ride  of  three  leagues  between 
Agua  Blanca  and  Acarigua,  I  counted  only  sixty-seven  head  of 
cattle  feeding  in  the  savannas,  although  there  was  pasturage  for 
hundreds,  if  not  thousands.  We  have  been  continually  surprised 
at  the  scarcity  of  horses  and  cattle.  Of  course  such  easily  movable 
property  is  the  first  to  suffer  in  a  revolution.  Once  the  brands  have 
been  destroyed  there  is  no  way  of  proving  property,  and  it  is  very 
difficult  to  get  any  redress.  The  natural  consequence  is  that  no 
one  takes  any  interest  in  raising  cattle  —  or  anything  else  for  that 
matter  —  and  the  country  appears  to  be  in  a  state  of  stagnation. 

January  26 th.  Acarigua  is  the  first  place  we  have  seen  that 
shows  any  signs  of  growth  and  progress.  It  lies  half  a  mile  south 
of  the  more  respectable  and  ancient  town  of  Araure,  which  is,  for  no 
apparent  reason,  suffering  a  decline.  The  latter  may  have  a  thousand 
inhabitants,  but  Acarigua  has  at  least  three  thousand.  Excellent 
hammocks  and  hats  are  made  here.  Since  the  Bolivar  Railroad 
has  been  completed  from  Puerto  Tucacas  to  Barquisimeto,  a  cart 
road  has  been  made  from  the  latter  place  to  Acarigua,  which  has 
thus  become  an  important  distributing  point  for  the  Northwestern 
Llanos. 

A  recent  writer  on  South  America,  an  American  commercial 
traveller,  says  his  brethren  are  the  real  heroes  of  modern  times,  sur¬ 
passing  the  missionary  and  the  scientific  explorer  in  searching  out 
the  dark  places  of  the  earth.  We  are  told  that  only  one  American 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


51 


has  ever  been  seen  here  before  —  and  that  was  over  forty  years  ago. 
I  wonder  if  he  was  a  commercial  traveller  and  why  none  of  his  fel¬ 
lows  have  been  here  since.  Has  the  opening  of  the  railroad  made 
it  too  easy? 

West  of  the  town  is  a  terrace  rising  possibly  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  above  the  level  of  the  plain.  Here  occurred  quite  a  bloody 
encounter  in  1813,  during  the  Wars  of  Independence.  The  story  goes 
that  a  hastily  organized  regiment  of  volunteers  won  the  battle  for 
the  patriots.  Bolivar  was  so  pleased  with  the  courage  of  the  raw 
recruits  that  he  bestowed  upon  the  regiment  the  name  of  “Bravos  de 


The  Church  of  Acarigua. 


Araure,”  much  to  their  joy.  If  there  is  anything  a  Spanish  soldier 
loves  it  is  to  belong  to  a  regiment  with  a  resounding  appellation. 
The  story  of  this  episode  was  told  me  with  much  gusto  by  a  decrepit 
old  fellow  who  lives  in  a  hut  on  the  hill  terrace  above  the  battle-field. 
After  he  had  finished  his  tale  he  wiped  his  eyes  with  his  sleeve, 
heaved  a  heavy  sigh,  and  finally  pulled  out  from  his  pocket  a  little 
horn  box,  about  as  large  as  a  walnut.  It  was  partly  filled  with  a 
nasty  black  nicotine  paste  which  is  made  hereabouts  by  mixing  the 
essence  of  tobacco  leaf  with  a  mineral  salt  found  in  Los  Andes. 


VENEZUELA 


Acarigua  from  the  Battle-field  of  Araure. 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


53 


With  a  small  stick,  picked  up  from  the  ground,  he  extracted  a  bit  of 
paste,  the  size  of  a  pea,  and  carefully  scraped  it  off  on  the  back  of 
his  upper  front  teeth.  This  he  assured  me  was  far  better  than  smok¬ 
ing.  (I  found  that  the  use  of  this  paste  is  quite  common  in  the 
towns  on  the  eastern  slopes  of  the  Andes.) 

We  left  Acarigua  about  half-past  three  and  reached  the  Carigua 
River  before  sunset.  There  is  a  posada  here  called  Choro,  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  river.  It  consists  of  the  usual  collection  of  thatched 
huts,  a  shelter  for  the  mules,  another  for  the  hogs,  of  which  the  pro¬ 
prietor  has  a  hundred  or  more,  and  a  third  for  the  kitchen  and  bar. 

January  The  sleeping-room  was  so  filthy  we  chose  to 

sleep  in  the  inn  yard  last  night.  We  had  little  rest.  Every  hour 
scores  of  the  half-starved  hogs  would  emerge  from  their  shelter  and 
go  on  foraging  expeditions  in  the  moonlight.  The  mules  were 
threatened  with  the  loss  of  their  corn  and  took  to  chasing  the  emaci¬ 
ated  pigs  round  the  yard.  The  sober  old  cart  mule  made  vain  efforts 
to  land  a  blow  on  the  largest  hog.  The  latter  sought  refuge  beneath 
our  hammocks.  My  cot  was  altogether  too  near  the  ground.  The 
pigs  attacked  boots  and  instruments,  clothes  bags  and  food  bags. 
Altogether  it  was  a  night  long  to  be  remembered,  —  but  not  for 
refreshing  slumber.  The  air  was  cool  and  fresh,  a  gentle  breeze 
drove  away  the  flies  and  mosquitoes,  the  stars  and  the  moon  vied  in 
brilliancy.  But  all  the  beauties  of  nature  did  not  compensate  us 
for  the  attacks  of  the  hungry  hogs.  We  were  glad  to  get  away  with¬ 
out  a  fight,  for  Rafael  in  his  zeal  had  thrown  a  stone  with  fatal  ac¬ 
curacy  at  one  of  the  pigs  which  was  stealing  the  cart  mule’s  supper. 
He  concealed  his  crime  by  throwing  the  porker  into  a  neighbouring 
banana  patch,  leaving  the  evidence  behind  us.  Had  our  host  been 
sober  it  would  have  been  a  simple  matter  to  pay  for  the  pig,  but  under 
the  circumstances  we  did  not  breathe  freely  until  we  crossed  the  Rio 
Guachi,  two  leagues  and  a  half  beyond  the  Carigua. 

Another  two  leagues  brought  us  to  the  magnificently  deserted 
plaza  of  Aparicion.  Its  church  is  a  curiosity,  with  huge  buttresses 
on  each  side,  and,  in  one  of  them,  three  bells.  Services  are  still 
held  here  once  a  year  and  the  tiled  roof  is  in  moderately  good  repair. 
Diagonally  across  the  “plaza,”  which  is  nothing  but  an  open  waste, 
is  the  only  other  building,  a  “general  store  ”  kept  by  an  enterprising 


54 


VENEZUELA 


Indian.  Cotton  cloth,  chinchoras  (hammocks),  lager  beer  from  Cara¬ 
cas,  “Extra  Soda”  biscuits  from  New  York,  “Love  Drops”  from 
London,  and  watermelons  from  the  patch  back  of  the  house,  together 
with  a  few  other  trinkets,  made  up  the  stock  in  trade.  Half  a  mile 
beyond,  having  passed  perhaps  two  houses,  we  came  to  the  inn. 
Aparicion  is  quite  a  place  on  the  map,  and  is  spread  over  consider¬ 
able  territory,  but  I  doubt  if  it  has  more  than  twenty-five  inhabitants. 


The  Village  of  Aparicion. 


I  spent  the  noon  hours  swinging  in  a  hammock  in  the  outer 
open  room  of  the  inn,  trying  to  make  up  for  the  loss  of  sleep;  but 
the  proprietor’s  pigs  took  up  the  tale  where  their  friends  had  left  it 
the  night  before,  and  proceeded  to  disturb  my  slumbers  by  scratch¬ 
ing  their  backs  on  the  under  side  of  my  hammock.  When  they  tired 
of  this,  their  friends,  the  chickens,  got  busy  scratching  up  the  earthen 
floor.  The  once  smooth  floor  is  now  in  ruts  from  the  hoofs  of  the 
mules  that  are  brought  in  here  to  be  saddled,  the  snouts  of  the 
rooting  hogs,  and  the  feet  of  the  energetic  fowls.  On  one  side  of 
this  so-called  room,  which  is  in  reality  nothing  more  than  a  thatched 
shed,  is  the  shop,  a  broken  chair  leaning  against  its  rough  mud- 
plastered  walls. 

A  little  porker  dodges  under  the  hammock  and  through  the  open 
door  of  the  shop,  which  chances  to  be  open.  Driven  out  of  there, 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


55 


he  runs  into  the  dining-room,  which  opens  off  the  kitchen  and  the 
proprietor’s  quarters.  Three  great  black  hogs,  as  fat  as  corn  can 
make  them,  lie  grunting  in  the  hollows  of  the  earthen  floor.  Two 
more  waddle  in  out  of  the  heat,  while  a  fowl  dodges  them  in  its  search 
for  crumbs.  A  pet  oriole  overhead  pulls  insects  out  of  the  badly 
thatched  roof,  and  incidentally  releases  pieces  of  the  roof  to  fall 
on  my  head.  In  the  middle  of  the  floor  is  a  crotched  post  set  in  the 
ground,  on  which  we  hang  our  cameras,  coats,  spurs,  and  knap¬ 
sacks.  The  pigs  keep  up  a  continual  snoring  and  grunting.  A 
thoughtful  youth,  who  can  scarcely  keep  his  eyes  off  the  strange 
North  Americans,  occasionally  drives  away  the  pigs;  but  they  pay 
little  attention  to  his  whip,  and  as  he  goes  into  the  shop  to  get  some 
maize  for  the  kitchen  maid  to  pound  up  for  our  luncheon,  a  huge 
hog,  twice  as  large  as  the  boy,  follows  him  with  a  cheerful  grunt, 
but  is  driven  out  squealing  before  he  has  time  to  steal  any  food. 
However,  a  cool  breeze,  a  keen  appetite,  a  plentiful  luncheon,  and 
the  sense  of  having  at  last  reached  the  heart  of  Western  Venezuela, 
make  one  quite  happy  and  willing  to  overlook  the  intimate  acquaint¬ 
ance  of  our  host’s  live  stock. 

After  leaving  Aparicion,  we  continued  through  the  same  kind 
of  country,  small  savannas,  frequent  wooded  streams,  hills  and 
distant  mountains  on  our  right,  and  plains  on  our  left.  This  after¬ 
noon  we  saw  for  the  first  time  a  tree  full  of  large  oriole  nests,  their 
tenants  being  black  and  yellow  birds  about  three  times  as  large  as 
the  Baltimore  oriole.  They  seem  fond  of  building  as  many  nests 
as  possible  in  the  same  tree. 

Ever  since  leaving  Tinaco  the  road  has  been  quite  fair,  presenting 
no  serious  obstacles,  although  it  looks  as  though  it  might  be  quite 
impassable  in  the  rainy  season.  There  are  almost  no  houses  to  be 
seen  now  between  the  towns  or  villages.  This  is  excellent  grazing 
country,  but  to  our  surprise  we  saw  very  few  cattle  and  almost  no 
horses.  This  afternoon,  for  the  first  time,  we  passed  two  small 
ponds  that  seemed  to  be  drying  up.  They  are  quite  characteristic 
of  the  Llanos. 

About  ten  miles  beyond  Aparicion  we  came  to  Ospino,  an  unpre¬ 
tentious  town.  Two  young  gentlemen  whom  we  met  at  Aparicion 
had  preceded  us  and  notified  the  keeper  of  the  more  modest  inn, 


56 


VENEZUELA 


who  sent  a  messenger  to  meet  us,  in  order  that  we  might  not  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  rival  posada.  Here  we  found  our  acquaintances, 
one  of  whom  spoke  a  little  English,  and  was  very  fond  of  repeating 
with  most  extraordinary  sing-song  accent,  “Ah,  my  friend!” 

January  28 th.  Ospino  is  a  quiet  little  town.  The  citizens  are 
too  lazy  to  gather  any  cocoanuts  from  the  graceful  trees  which  are 
well  laden  with  fruit.  The  only  local  enterprise  of  which  we  heard  is 
the  manufacture  of  little  horn  boxes  for  nicotine  paste. 

Last  evening  we  were  entertained  by  our  two  young  Venezuelan 
friends,  who  speak  a  little  English  and  desired  to  try  it  on  us.  They 
attended  the  University  of  Caracas  a  few  years  ago  and  chose  Eng¬ 
lish  as  one  of  their  “Modern  Languages.”  One  lives  in  Guanare 
where  his  father  is  the  first  citizen  of  the  town.  The  other  is  a  local 
sport  and  has  a  “pack  of  hounds.”  He  tells  us  they  are  all  “fox 
terriers,”  and  that  he  has  seven,  —  his  friend  says  “three.”  He  is 
a  mighty  hunter  and  often  goes  out  after  deer,  peccaries,  and 
wild  fowl  “with  a  Smith  and  Wesson  revolver.”  Our  conversation 
dragged  somewhat  until  he  remarked,  “New  York  is  always  in 
January  very  glad.  No?”  We  suggested  that  he  meant  “cold,” 
but  he  did  not  seem  familiar  with  that  word  and  soon  took  his 
departure. 

We  left  Ospino  early  this  morning.  Such  hills  as  we  see  are 
much  eroded.  The  road  keeps  within  a  mile  or  two  of  them  and 
as  usual  crosses  savannas  and  wooded  watercourses.  Occasionally 
we  see  large  trees  in  the  woods.  This  morning  we  passed  one  that 
measured  twenty-one  feet  in  circumference  at  a  height  of  five  feet 
from  the  ground.  Richard  said  it  was  common  in  Trinidad  and  is 
called  there  the  “wild  cusha.”  Although  we  see  hundreds  of  lizards 
every  day,  we  have  as  yet  not  seen  a  single  snake.  The  numerous 
fires  that  annually  sweep  over  the  savannas  apparently  have  made 
snakes  quite  scarce.  The  flowers  that  one  notices  most  often  are 
large  yellow  ones  seen  everywhere,  frequently  on  fence  posts.  The 
trees  used  for  this  purpose  here  seem  to  have  great  tenacity  of  life, 
and  even  as  fence  posts  continue  to  live  and  bear  flowers.  The  road 
is  never  quiet.  The  chirp  of  insects  and  the  chatter  of  birds  are 
almost  constant,  except  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  but  one  never  hears 
any  sounds  of  cattle  or  horses. 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


57 


About  twelve  miles  from  Ospino  we  came  to  another  San  Rafael, 
with  an  elaborately  decorated  church.  The  front  view  is  not  un¬ 
attractive,  as  the  facade  presents  an  imposing  appearance;  but  the 
side  view  is  as  ridiculous  as  possible.  The  building  is  in  reality 
low,  and  the  facade,  three  or  four  feet  thick,  rises  like  a  wall  to  twice 
the  height  of  the  roof. 


The  Jungle  of  the  Rio  Portuguesa. 


After  luncheon  we  pushed  on,  and  toward  evening  came  to  a 
grand  jungle,  the  flood  plain  of  the  Rio  Portuguesa,  which  extends 
for  a  width  of  two  miles  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river  and  is  the  finest 
forest  we  have  yet  seen.  It  was  after  sunset,  but  the  moon  was  full 
and  the  ride  through  the  woods  in  the  moonlight  was  one  not  soon 
to  be  forgotten.  Vines  that  looked  like  snakes  hung  down  from 
the  giant  trees.  Bright  eyes  seemed  to  glisten  in  the  inky  shadows, 
and  the  crashing  sound  of  some  large  animal  hurrying  off  in  the 
thicket  gave  one  a  pleasant  sense  of  jaguars  and  other  interesting 
possibilities.  It  was  a  time  when  one  appreciated  the  value  of  fire¬ 
arms;  but  nothing  happened.  We  reached  the  Portuguesa  at  seven 
o’clock,  forded  it  without  difficulty,  and  soon  after  entered  the 


58 


VENEZUELA 


enclosure  of  an  excellent  posada,  where  half  a  dozen  carters  on  their 
way  to  Valencia  had  already  arrived. 

In  the  courtyard  of  the  thatched  inn  were  hung  long  lines  of  fish 
to  dry.  Most  of  them  were  about  a  foot  long;  but  there  -were  two 
specimens  of  a  large  fish,  a  kind  of  salmon,  that  measured  forty 
inches  from  neck  to  tip  of  tail  after  the  head  had  been  removed. 

January  29 th.  Every  one  that  can  afford  to  do  so  in  this  country 
sleeps  in  hammocks.  One  never  sees  a  bedstead  of  any  kind.  The 
peons,  when  they  have  no  hammocks,  sleep  on  mats  or  rawhide 
laid  on  the  ground.  The  night  was  very  cold  and  damp.  Yet  at 
4.15  A.M.  the  thermometer  registered  6i°  F.  The  cartmen  were  all 
shivering.  It  may  seem  ridiculous  to  think  of  shivering  within  nine 
degrees  of  the  equator  when  the  temperature  is  above  6o°  F.,  but 
the  dampness  and  the  daily  change  from  90°  F.  in  the  early  afternoon 
to  6o°  F.  in  the  early  morning  is  very  trying. 

We  made  an  early  start,  but  as  it  was  my  first  sight  of  a  large 
tropical  river  I  went  back  half  a  mile  to  the  Portuguesa  and  was 
well  rewarded  by  the  novelty  of  my  surroundings.  I  reached  the 
river  just  as  the  sun  was  rising  slowly  over  the  great  forest  on  the 
left  bank.  The  jungle  family  was  just  waking  up.  Scores  of  doves 
were  cooing  in  the  trees.  Wild  pigeons  flew  rapidly  across  the  sky. 
Parrots  and  paroquets  chattered.  Hundreds  of  small  birds  kept 
up  a  continual  chirping.  Two  large  herons  added  their  screams 
to  the  chorus;  but  the  most  fascinating  sound  of  all  was  the  mimic 
roar  of  the  araguatos  or  howling  monkeys,  rising  and  falling  like 
the  moaning  of  a  wind,  in  a  weird  cadence.  They  are  very  shy 
beasts,  and  almost  impossible  to  find. 

A  slight  mist  lay  on  the  water  but  rapidly  disappeared  as  the  sun 
rose  higher.  The  river  was  confined  to  its  deeper  channel  so  that 
the  sandy  shoals  were  left  quite  dry.  Wandering  along  them  I  turned 
a  bend  in  the  river  and  swept  the  canebrakes  and  the  banks  of  the 
stream  with  my  Zeiss  glasses  in  the  hope  of  new  sights.  First  an 
iguana  sunning  himself  on  top  of  a  vine-covered  tree,  then  a  gray 
heron  quietly  watching  me  from  a  branch  in  the  shadow  beneath, 
and  finally  an  alligator  basking  in  the  sun  on  a  sand  bank  not  far 
off,  came  slowly  into  the  field.  A  pair  of  beautiful  storks  that  looked 
as  though  they  had  stepped  out  of  a  Japanese  screen  flew  majestically 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


59 


from  tree  to  tree  above  the  river  looking  for  the  fish  that  occasionally 
splashed  in  the  stream.  It  is  difficult  to  do  justice  to  the  enchant¬ 
ment  of  the  scene. 

Two  leagues  south  of  the  Portuguesa  is  Guanare,  once  the  capital 
of  the  State  of  Zamora,  but  now  reduced  to  a  quiet  somnolence  that 
gives  no  promise  of  being  disturbed  for  many  years  to  come.  The 
latest  official  figures  give  it  a  population  of  thirty  thousand.  But  as 
there  are  only  five  very  small  shops  and  certainly  not  three  hundred 
houses  standing,  it  is  difficult  to  account  for  more  than  two  thousand 
residents.  I  very  much  doubt  if  there  are  fifteen  hundred. 


The  Entrance  to  Guanare. 


A  small  bridge,  thirty  feet  long  and  covered  with  a  corrugated 
iron  roof,  leads  over  a  little  stream  to  the  main  street  of  the  town. 
A  crowd  of  good-natured  boys  and  men  followed  us  about  and  pointed 
out  the  sights  of  the  town.  There  is  a  quaint  old  college  with  a 
pleasant  cloister  that  lends  to  the  place  an  atmosphere  of  monastic 
learning.  About  fifty  students  are  on  the  rolls.  West  of  the  college 
is  the  Calvario,  a  hill  devoted  to  religious  purposes,  from  which  we 
had  a  fine  view  of  the  town  and  the  plains  which  stretch  away  into 
the  interminable  distance.  The  plaza  is  shady  and  well  kept.  On 


6o 


VENEZUELA 


its  east  side  is  a  well-built  house  said  to  have  been  the  headquarters 
of  Bolivar.  During  the  days  of  Guanare’s  political  importance  a 
reservoir  was  built  in  the  hills  back  of  the  town,  so  that  some  of  the 
houses  enjoy  running  water. 


The  Church  at  Guanare. 

In  Valencia  we  had  secured  a  letter  of  credit  to  the  correspondent 
of  Bloehm  &  Co.,  in  Guanare,  and  he  turns  out  to  be  the  most 
important  person  in  town.  He  is  a  very  fine  old  fellow  with  fourteen 
children,  who  did  not  make  the  slightest  fuss  about  furnishing  us 
with  $200  in  gold  and  silver.  He  keeps  a  store  on  the  corner  of  the 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


61 


plaza,  but  tells  us  that  this  town  is  too  slow  for  him,  and  he  intends 
to  move  as  soon  as  possible  to  Barquisimeto. 

January  30 th.  We  left  Guanare  this  morning,  and  in  about  an 
hour  reached  the  river  Guanare,  a  magnificent  stream,  quite  shal¬ 
low,  filled  with  islands,  and  flanked  by  great  jungles.  In  one  tree 
we  counted  sixty-three  beautiful  egrets,  who  were  joined  in  a  few 
minutes  by  twenty  others. 


Bolivar’s  Headquarters  at  Guanare. 


After  passing  the  Guanare,  the  fauna  seemed  to  change  slightly. 
The  blackbirds,  buzzards,  and  hawks  continue  as  before,  but  are 
joined  now  by  many  new  birds  that  I  had  never  seen,  — occasional 
hornbills  and  many  kinds  of  fishing  birds.  Few  carts  ever  go 
beyond  Guanare,  although  a  passable  road  continues  to  follow  the 
lone  telegraph  wire  as  far  as  Barinas.  Swallows  sit  on  the  wire  here 
just  as  they  do  in  New  England.  This  morning  in  the  trees  on 
the  banks  of  the  river  Tocupido  I  saw  some  monkeys.  Thev 
were  the  small  red  variety  that  are  common  here.  Near  by  were 
some  guacharacas  ( hoatzin ,  O pisthocomus  cristatus ).  They  made  a 
great  noise.  They  look  like  crested  pheasants  and  their  plumage  is 
most  striking.  There  must  have  been  eight  or  ten  of  them  together. 


62 


VENEZUELA 


In  the  river  was  a  small  alligator  and  a  fair-sized  skate.  Bites  of 
assorted  kinds  and  sizes  are  accumulating  on  arms  and  hands.  Flies 
are  getting  very  troublesome,  and  the  little  midgets  bite  badly, 
leaving  a  little  blotch  with  a  black  nucleus  that  lasts  for  two  or 
three  weeks.  It  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  blood  blister. 


The  Shopping  District  of  Guanare. 


A  mile  beyond  the  river  we  came  to  the  picturesque  ruins  of  the 
old  Tocupido  church.  One  of  the  arches  is  still  standing,  but  a  tree 
twenty  or  thirty  years  old  is  growing  in  the  aisle.  Thirty  thatched 
huts  and  a  small  church  with  a  little  thatched  belfry,  a  deserted 
plaza  and  a  few  cocoanut  trees  are  all  that  is  left  of  this  old  Spanish 
town.  The  innkeeper  told  us  that  the  road  to  Barinas  by  way  of 
the  village  of  Bocono  was  impassable  for  the  cart,  and  that  we  must 
go  by  way  of  Sabaneta,  crossing  the  river  Bocono  ten  miles  below 
the  village  of  that  name.  We  might  have  spent  the  night  here  in 
Tocupido,  but  we  preferred  to  get  on  as  far  as  possible. 

About  sundown  we  camped  near  a  stream  on  the  edge  of  a  big 
savanna.  Just  before  dark  I  managed  to  shoot  one  of  the  strange 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


63 


wild  fowl  called  guacharacas  as  it  hopped  silently  through  the  branches 
of  a  tree  beside  the  stream.  We  roasted  it  over  a  fine  bed  of  coals, 
but  it  was  as  tough  as  leather. 

January  31  st.  Last  night  was  fine  and  we  swung  our  hammocks 
in  the  open.  This  morning  we  reached  the  river  Bocono.  It  is 
quite  different  from  anything  we  have  seen  so  far.  Instead  of  being 
a  wide,  shallow  rocky  stream  like  the  Portuguesa  and  the  Guanare, 
it  has  a  sandy  bottom  and  flows  between  well-defined  banks.  As 
is  to  be  expected  the  banks  are  heavily  wooded.  The  jungles  of 
the  Bocono  have  a  wonderful  variety  of  flora  and  fauna.  Monkeys 
abound,  parrots  and  macaws  are  very  common,  while  hornbills, 
hawks,  red  squirrels  ( sciurus  variabilis )  and  millions  of  insects  make 
it  interesting  but  not  always  pleasant. 


The  Plaza,  Tocupido. 


In  the  afternoon  we  were  poled  over  the  river  in  a  big  dugout 
canoe.  The  Bocono  here  is  about  a  thousand  feet  wide,  but  hardly 
more  than  four  feet  deep.  We  could  have  ridden  across  perfectly 
well,  but  naturally  the  canoemen  exaggerated  its  depth  and  the 
dangerous  character  of  its  sandy  bottom.  There  is  a  primitive  inn 
on  each  side  of  the  river.  The  houses  have  walls  of  split  bamboo 
and  jungle  reed  and  palm  leaf  thatched  roofs. 

On  the  south  side  of  the  river  the  jungle  is  very  deep  and  we 
passed  through  a  great  forest  which  extended  for  nearly  two  leagues, 


64 


VENEZUELA 


as  far  as  Sabancta.  This  is  a  little  village  of  no  importance  except 
that  it  has  a  good  inn  which  is  the  natural  “half-way  house”  between 
Guanare  and  Barinas.  Two  ancient  ladies,  Spanish  creoles,  are  the 
owners.  Their  daughters  are  mestizos,  and  their  kitchen-maids 
look  like  zambos.  In  the  course  of  the  evening  Rice  got  out  his  the¬ 
odolite,  as  usual,  and  took  observations;  Richard  amused  himself 
skinning  the  parrots  that  I  had  shot,  Josh  spun  “yarns,”  and  I  was 
busy  with  my  little  red  lanterns  changing  plates  in  a  dark  corner  of 
the  living-room.  Our  audience  divided  its  chief  interest  between 
speculating  as  to  Rice’s  astrology  and  my  alchemy,  the  little  red 
lamps  having  almost  as  much  fascination  for  them  as  the  theodolite. 


The  Bocono  River. 

February  i st.  We  had  expected  to  go  from  Sabaneta  to  Barinas 
by  way  of  Obispo,  but  learned  this  morning  that  the  cart  road  was 
new  and  very  heavy.  To  reach  Barinas,  we  must  avoid  Obispo,  go 
west  and  slightly  north  through  the  great  jungle  that  lies  for  miles 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  Bocono,  then  turn  south  and  make  for  the 
town  of  Barrancas.  For  ten  miles  the  road  lay  through  the  most 
magnificent  tropical  forest  I  have  ever  seen.  Trees  with  a  girth  of 
twenty  to  twenty-five  feet  and  a  spread  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  to 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


65 


two  hundred  feet  were  not  uncommon.  Flocks  of  chattering  monkeys, 
quantities  of  gaily  colored  birds,  numerous  stinging  insects,  and 
millions  of  ants  made  the  day  one  of  uninterrupted  interest. 


At  the  Sabaneta  Inn. 

Some  of  the  ant  heaps  covered  six  or  eight  square  yards,  and  were 
over  two  feet  in  height.  At  one  place  which  was  rather  sandy,  the 
ants  had  made  a  novel  causeway  over  the  fine  sand  of  the  man- 
travelled  path.  In  order  to  keep  up  the  great  speed  at  which  the 
majority  wished  to  travel,  several  hundred  of  the  workers  lay  locked 
together  in  the  dust,  making  a  bridge  over  which  their  companions, 
the  soldier  ants,  could  run  as  fast  as  on  the  hard  little  paths  which 
they  make  in  the  jungle.  This  living  causeway  was  over  a  foot  in 
length,  two  inches  wide,  and  from  one  to  three  ants  deep.  When 
I  first  saw  it  I  thought  that  the  ants  in  the  road  had  been  killed  by 
passersby  stepping  on  them,  although  I  found  later  to  my  cost  that 
they  were  extremely  hard  to  kill  in  that  or  any  other  way.  A  kick 
from  my  boot  broke  up  the  living  roadway,  which  soon  formed  again 
in  another  place,  each  ant  settling  himself  in  the  fine  dust  and  taking 
hold  with  his  fore  legs  of  the  hind  legs  of  the  ant  in  front.  Others 
mounted  the  first  layer  and  gripped  them  with  such  tenacity  that  the 
causeway  held  together  like  a  ribbon.  By  thrusting  a  stick  under- 


66 


VENEZUELA 


neath,  I  lifted  it  five  inches  from  the  ground  before  the  ants  decided 
to  let  go.  The  working  ants  were  about  half  an  inch  long  and  of  a 
dusty  black  colour.  The  soldier  ants  were  a  third  as  long  again. 


On  the  Road  to  Barrancas. 


Soon  after  this  I  heard  what  sounded  like  falls  or  large  rapids, 
but  the  jungle  was  too  dense  to  penetrate  and  see  which  it  was.  The 
foot-hills  in  this  region  are  grassy  and  without  trees,  but  the  banks 
of  the  watercourses  even  where  the  stream  has  run  dry  are  well 
wooded.  A  mile  farther  on  we  emerged  from  the  forest  and  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  Andes  through  the  gap  in  the  foot-hills  made  by  the 
Bocono  River.  Then  the  road  took  a  sharp  turn  to  the  left  and  south. 

We  spent  the  middle  of  the  day  in  a  wretched  little  thatched  hut 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  Masparro  River.  The  owner  appeared  to 
have  three  wives  and  a  large  amount  of  other  live  stock,  including 
cattle,  goats,  dogs,  and  pigs.  His  wives  and  children  were  all  more  or 
less  ill  and  diseased,  and  so  were  the  dogs.  Rice  held  a  “clinic”  and 
told  us  that  nearly  all  had  enlarged  spleens  due  to  malaria.  Shortly 
before  sunset  we  reached  Barrancas,  a  village  of  fifteen  or  twenty 
thatched  huts,  besides  some  ruins  to  show  that  it  was  once  a  place 
of  more  importance.  The  flies  and  bees  were  maddening  this  morning 
and  I  suffered  greatly  from  the  bites  of  all  kinds  of  insects,  although 
I  wore  gauntlets  and  a  head  net  most  of  the  time.  This  evening  I 
counted  sixty-three  bites  on  my  left  hand  and  arm,  and  over  forty 
on  my  right. 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS  67 

February  2d.  Our  weather  for  the  past  three  weeks  has  been 
quite  uniform,  no  rain,  little  wind,  and  cumulous  clouds. 

We  spent  a  large  part  of  the  afternoon  on  the  banks  of  the  Yuca 
River,  as  we  had  been  informed  that  it  was  only  a  league  from  here 
to  Barinas.  The  result  was  we  did  not  reach  the  Santo  Domingo 
River  until  after  dark.  It  is  a  large  stream  with  many  islands,  much 
like  the  Portuguesa  and  the  Guanare,  and  has  a  very  wide  flood  plain. 
The  cart  got  stuck  in  a  bog  before  we  entered  the  jungles  of  the  Santo 
Domingo,  and  spent  the  night  in  the  savanna,  but  we  rode  on  hoping 
to  reach  Barinas  without  difficulty.  The  road  through  the  jungle  was 
well  marked,  but  the  ford  at  the  Santo  Domingo  was  a  different  mat¬ 
ter.  After  several  vain  attempts  we  were  obliged  to  light  one  of  the 
folding  lanterns,  wade  across  and  hunt  for  the  landing-place  before  we 


The  Marquisate,  Barinas. 


could  follow  the  direction  of  the  ford.  As  the  river  was  quite  rapid, 
three  feet  deep,  and  the  bottom  rocky  and  treacherous,  the  mules 
made  a  great  fuss  about  crossing.  At  length,  about  eight  o’clock,  we 
reached  the  famous  old  city  of  Barinas  and  found  a  posada. 

February  3d.  Barinas  was  founded  earlier  than  Caracas,  the 


68 


VENEZUELA 


Spaniards  having  explored  this  part  of  Venezuela  before  they  pene¬ 
trated  the  region  immediately  south  of  the  Coast  Range.  The 
city  prospered  greatly  during  the  Colonial  epoch  and  was  famous 
for  its  tobacco,  which  commanded  a  high  price  in  the  German  markets. 


The  Courtyard  of  the  Marquisate. 

Barinas  was  at  that  time  the  capital  of  the  province.  One  of  the 
Government  buildings  is  still  standing,  and  presents  a  fine  appear¬ 
ance.  There  are  probably  not  more  than  one  thousand  people  living 
here  now.  I  presume  six  hundred  would  be  a  closer  estimate.  The 
official  figures  give  it  twenty-five  hundred.  It  once  had  ten  thou¬ 
sand  inhabitants. 

There  is  some  interest  taken  in  music,  and  an  aggregation  con¬ 
sisting  of  a  bassoon,  a  violin,  a  tuba,  and  a  flute  are  spending  the 
Sunday  afternoon  “rehearsing”  in  one  of  the  rooms  of  the  inn.  It 
makes  writing  rather  difficult. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century  a  great  cattle  king, 
who  had  social  ambitions,  built  himself  a  palace  here.  During  the 
wars  with  Spain  he  assisted  the  Loyalists  and  was  made  a  marquis 
for  his  pains.  The  ruins  of  his  great  establishment,  the  “Marqui¬ 
sate,”  are  most  interesting.  The  house  measures  138  by  114  feet. 


CARABOBO  TO  BARINAS 


69 


The  roof  is  gone  and  much  of  the  rich  ornamentation,  but  the  grand 
court  is  surrounded  by  columns  which  are  still  standing.  There 
were  seventeen  rooms  besides  the  hallways.  Other  large  ruins  in 
the  vicinity,  and  many  mounds  scattered  through  the  city,  might  be 
explored  with  profit. 

Barinas  is  the  last  city  we  shall  see  for  some  time.  It  is  like  the 
other  cities  of  the  Western  Llanos,  San  Carlos,  Araure,  and  Guanare. 
All  bear  witness  of  a  departed  greatness.  In  the  last  days  of  the 
Colonial  epoch  there  must  have  been  at  least  ten  times  as  many 
people  here.  Those  that  remain  are  poor  and  unenterprising. 
Apathy  is  their  most  marked  characteristic.  Their  houses  are  gen¬ 
erally  built  of  adobe,  sometimes  with  red-tiled  roofs  but  more  often 
with  palm-leaf  thatch.  Their  churches  are  in  a  better  state  of  preser¬ 
vation  than  might  have  been  expected.  Yet  one  sees  very  few  signs 


A  Bowling  Green. 


of  superstition.  Schools  of  a  primary  grade  are  common  in  the  towns 
and  every  one  seems  to  be  able  to  read  and  write.  Except  on  Sunday 
afternoons  we  have  seen  few  cock  fights.  Bowling  seems  to  be  the 
most  popular  form  of  amusement.  Nearly  every  posada,  and  many 
pulperias,  have  alleys  laid  out  on  a  smooth  bit  of  ground  near  by. 


7° 


VENEZUELA 


Sometimes  the  game  resembles  the  old  English  “bowling  on  the 
green,”  but  more  often  it  is  a  variety  of  skittles,  with  three  pins. 
Generally  small  silver  coins  are  placed  under  or  behind  the  pins,  as 
rewards  to  the  successful  bowler. 

The  main  industry  is  cattle  breeding,  although  the  hogs  of  Araure, 
Aparicion,  and  Ospino  are  considered  the  best  that  are  raised  in 
Venezuela.  We  are  not  likely  to  forget  them.  The  only  manu¬ 
factures  seem  to  be  coarse  sugar  in  loaves  ( papelon ),  straw  hats, 
hammocks,  crude  pottery,  and  horn  boxes.  The  staple  food  is  the 
plantain,  a  fine  large  banana,  cooked  in  various  ways.  Excellent 
coffee  is  raised  in  the  hills  west  of  the  cities.  In  fact  coffee  has  been 
our  greatest  luxury.  The  cities  are  about  five  hundred  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.  From  them  the  plains  slope  very  gently  east¬ 
ward  down  to  the  Orinoco. 


CHAPTER  IV 


From  Barlnas  to  the  Apure  River 

February  4th.  We  had  intended  to  go  from  Barinas  to  Pedraza 
and  thence  to  Guasdualito  and  Arauca,  but  were  told  yesterday  that 
we  would  have  great  difficulty  in  fording  the  rivers  and  might  not  be 
able  to  reach  the  frontier  unless  we  go  via  Boca  Suripa,  where  a 
canoe  ferry  is  maintained  at  the  junction  of  the  most  important 
rivers  that  lie  between  us  and  Guasdualito.  This  will  take  us  east¬ 
ward  into  the  heart  of  the  Llanos  of  Apure,  whence  came  the  Bravos 
de  Apure,  that  famous  regiment  of  cowboys  which,  supported  by 
the  British  Legion,  fought  so  fiercely  at  Carabobo.  In  this  region, 
Venezuela’s  Rough  Rider  hero,  General  Paez,  was  raised,  and  it  is 
possible  that  we  may  see  the  ranch  where  he  lived  and  the  grove 
called  the  Temple  of  Independence  where  he  hid  when  closely  pur¬ 
sued  by  the  Spaniards. 

Hitherto  we  have  been  following  the  Government  telegraph  wire 
but  this  is  the  end  of  the  line.  Last  evening  we  engaged  a  guide. 
He  is  to  get  three  dollars  and  his  food  for  taking  us  to  Totomal  (San 
Sylvestre)  on  the  river  Paguei,  which  will  necessitate  a  walk  on  his 
part  of  about  sixty-five  miles. 

We  rose  at  2.53  this  morning  in  an  effort  to  make  a  good  day’s 
march.  It  is  astonishing  how  long  it  takes  to  get  started  after  one 
gets  up  in  the  morning.  You  may  fuss  and  fume  as  much  as  you  like, 
the  men  will  take  about  two  hours  to  get  the  sand  out  of  their  eyes 
and  the  animals  saddled,  even  if  they  do  not  have  to  wait  for  break¬ 
fast.  The  cart  was  packed  last  night  so  that  there  was  little  to  do 
besides  loading  the  pack  mule,  saddling  the  others,  and  eating  break¬ 
fast,  but  the  operation  took  the  usual  two  hours,  and  it  was  five 
o’clock  before  we  left  the  vicinity  of  Barinas  and  started  off  in  the 
moonlight. 

Hardly  had  we  got  well  under  way  before  we  encountered  a  bog, 

7T 


72 


VENEZUELA 


where  we  were  delayed  more  than  an  hour  as  the  cart  had  to  be 
entirely  unloaded.  Once  through  this  we  turned  our  backs  to  the 
mountains,  which  presented  a  beautiful  sight  as  the  rising  sun  lighted 


The  Jabiru’s  Nest. 


their  eastern  slopes.  We  took  up  our  march  over  a  magnificent 
savanna  parallel  to  the  rivers  that  flow  into  the  Apure,  and  passed  a 
number  of  lagoons  or  ponds  full  of  game  birds.  So  near  together 
did  the  ducks  sit  on  the  water  that  I  killed  sixteen  with  four  car¬ 
tridges.  One  of  the  ducks  which  had  apparently  fallen  dead  began 
to  act  very  strangely,  alternately  diving  and  swimming  on  its  back. 
The  motive  power  proved  to  be  a  small  alligator,  which  was  finally 
persuaded  to  relinquish  his  prey. 

About  five  leagues  from  Barinas  we  saw  a  nest  of  the  giant  jabiru 
high  up  in  a  very  tall  tree.  One  parent  and  two  chicks  were  perched 
on  the  nest  and  seemed  to  have  no  fear  of  us  at  all,  although  the 
parent  kept  up  a  continuous  warning  rattle  with  its  long  beak. 

We  had  hitherto  found  six  leagues  to  be  about  the  limit  of  our 
cart  mule’s  endurance,  but  we  succeeded  to-day  in  doing  nearly  eight, 
as  we  had  no  rivers  to  cross  and  a  slight  down  grade.  Our  guide  is 
an  excellent  fellow  with  a  rapid  walk  and  a  cheerful  spirit.  He 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


73 


amused  himself  all  day  by  lighting  fires  in  the  dry  grass  of  the  plain, 
and  kept  this  up  during  the  evening,  as  we  did  not  reach  water  until 
about  seven  o’clock.  In  time  the  woods  and  the  savannas  surround¬ 
ing  us  were  all  blazing  and  it  looked  like  a  scene  from  the  Inferno. 
The  risk  from  these  fires  is  not  very  great.  They  help  to  keep  the 
paths  open,  besides  improving  the  pasturage.  So  far  we  have  seen 
few  cattle. 

February  5 th.  One  is  continually  impressed  by  the  desolateness 
of  this  entire  region.  We  reached  the  Paguei  in  the  middle  of  the 
morning,  after  passing  through  a  fine  jungle  where  we  saw  a  large 
troop  of  monkeys.  In  order  to  get  the  cart  across  the  river  it  had  to 
be  unloaded  and  the  stuff  ferried  over  in  a  big  dugout  canoe.  As  the 
water  only  came  up  to  the  floor  of  the  cart,  Rafael  had  little  difficulty 
in  driving  it  across. 


Telephoto  View  of  the  Jabiru  and  Nest. 

The  Paguei  resembles  the  Bocono  in  that  it  has  rather  high  banks, 
few  if  any  islands,  and  a  slow  current  over  a  sandy  bottom,  in  dis¬ 
tinction  from  the  Santo  Domingo  and  the  Guanare  which  are  rapid, 


74 


VENEZUELA 


shallow,  wide,  and  rocky.  But  it  must  be  remembered  that  we  crossed 
the  Guanare  and  the  Santo  Domingo  near  the  foot-hills  and  the 
Bocono  and  Paguei  at  a  distance  of  at  least  eleven  miles  below  them. 
We  have  not  had  an  opportunity  of  exploring  the  rivers  from  source 
to  mouth,  but  I  presume  it  would  be  found  that  they  are  all  alike. 
They  probably  all  have  wide  stony  beds  near  the  hills  and  change 
their  appearance  slowly  as  they  get  farther  into  the  Llanos  where 
there  are  no  stones  and  the  streams  cut  their  way  through  sandy 
banks.  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  where  the  change  begins. 


Crossing  the  Paguei  River. 


On  the  south  bank  of  the  Paguei  is  Totomal,  or  San  Sylvestre  as 
it  is  now  called,  a  poverty-stricken  collection  of  a  dozen  thatched 
huts.  As  the  bank  is  quite  high  and  rises  somewhat  above  high 
water,  there  is  little  danger  of  floods  and  the  village  lies  on  the  bank 
instead  of  being  some  distance  from  it,  as  is  the  case  with  most  of 
the  river  towns  we  have  seen.  Here  we  secured  the  services  of 
another  guide,  who  was  too  lazy  to  go  on  foot,  but  fortunately  owned 
a  huge  tame  ox  that  was  quite  a  fast  walker. 

The  jungle  on  the  south  side  of  the  Paguei  is  over  two  miles  wide. 
Passing  through  it  we  entered  another  great  savanna  and  shortly 
after  dark  reached  a  solitary  ranch  where  we  bivouacked  for  the  night. 
The  men  were  away  when  we  arrived  and  the  womenfolk  were  very 
much  frightened,  but  their  Llanero  husbands  soon  returned  and 
silently  made  us  welcome,  although  evidently  regarding  us  as  highly 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


75 


suspicious  characters.  They  were  not  willing  to  give  us  any  food 
but  allowed  us  to  take  one  of  their  pots  in  which  to  cook  some  of  the 
game  shot  during  the  day.  For  light  they  had  primitive  tallow  dips, 
and  for  a  candlestick  used  the  mud-plastered  walls  of  the  hut,  to 
which  they  stuck  the  dip  by  means  of  its  own  melting  tallow. 

February  6th.  This  morning  we  met  a  herd  of  over  three  hun¬ 
dred  cattle  being  driven  to  Barinas  and  the  northern  markets.  A 
little  later  we  came  to  a  prosperous  looking  ranch,  quite  an  oasis  in 
the  desert,  its  buildings  all  in  good  repair  and  a  strongly  built  fence 
enclosing  a  large  grove  of  plantains.  We  were  kindly  received  here 
by  the  majordomo,  who  looked  like  a  cross  between  a  Hawaiian  and 
a  Chinese.  His  master  returned  in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  was 
kind  enough  to  say  that  he  had  plenty  of  everything  and  would  like 
to  have  us  spend  several  days  with  him.  “  Everything  ”  here  means 
fried  plantains  and  dried  beef,  varied  occasionally  by  the  addition 
of  a  little  coffee.  But  plantains  are  scarce,  and  considered  such  a 


Cattle  on  their  way  to  Market. 


delicacy  that  the  cowboys  are  given  nothing  but  beef.  It  turns  out 
that  this  place  is  historically  known  as  the  Corral  Falzo  of  General 
Paez.  Here  that  famous  Llanero  chief  established  a  temporary 
enclosure  where  horses  and  cattle  could  be  collected  for  the  patriots 
in  the  War  for  Independence.  From  this  corral  in  the  heart  of  the 
Llanos  rode  the  Bravos  de  Apure  who  were  foremost  in  the  fight  at 


76 


VENEZUELA 


Carabobo.  Paez  was  born  near  Acarigua,  but  was  brought  to  Apure 
when  two  or  three  years  old  and  spent  his  boyhood  at  a  ranch  not  far 
away  called  La  Calzada.  It  is  now  owned  by  a  Colombian,  Don 
Francisco  Parada  Leal,  who  happened  to  arrive  at  Corral  Falzo  this 
evening.  He  is  most  cordial,  and  invites  us  to  visit  him.  He  comes 
from  Sogamoso,  where  his  people  still  live,  and  is  quite  the  most 
intelligent  person  that  we  have  met  in  some  weeks.  He  has  travelled 
extensively,  and  is  able  to  give  fairly  exact  information  in  regard  to 
routes.  It  is  astonishing  how  few  of  these  people  know  the  dis¬ 
tances,  or  even  how  long  it  takes  to  go  to  any  place  that  is  more  than 
a  day’s  journey  away.  So  far  as  these  people  are  concerned,  Caracas 
is  quite  as  far  away  as  Bogota.  Work  is  hard,  and  there  is  plenty 
of  it.  During  the  dry  season  it  consists  chiefly  of  handling  cattle. 
There  are  no  fences  of  any  description  to  separate  the  ranches;  the 
yearly  branding  is  of  great  importance,  and  has  to  be  done  with 
considerable  care.  Usually  the  cattle  owners  attend  one  another’s 
round-ups  so  as  to  keep  track  of  their  own  cattle  and  make  sure  that 
the  calves  are  branded  with  the  same  brand  the  mothers  carry.  It 
is  for  this  errand  that  Don  Francisco  is  visiting  this  ranch,  but  he 
says  he  will  return  home  tomorrow  in  order  to  accompany  us  and 
see  us  comfortably  settled  at  La  Calzada. 

We  have  several  times  met  wild  bulls  on  the  road  that  were  being 
dragged  to  the  bull  ring  of  Caracas,  fastened  to  the  tail  of  a  strong 
horse.  It  seems  that  the  cowboys  in  this  country  have  such  wretched 
saddles  that  they  are  obliged  to  rely  on  the  strength  of  their  horses’ 
tails.  Before  starting  for  the  day’s  work  the  cowboy  takes  one  end 
of  his  rawhide  lasso,  doubles  the  tail  over  the  rope,  binds  the  lasso 
several  times  around  it  and  thus  secures  it  firmly  to  his  patient 
horse.  It  is  only  when  handling  animals  that  are  too  large  or  too 
wild  to  be  trusted  to  the  pommel  of  the  badly  made  saddles  that  the 
cowboys  resort  to  this  ridiculous  method  of  roping  cattle.  It  looks 
as  though  it  might  hurt  the  horses,  but  they  do  not  appear  to  mind  it. 

February  7th.  We  had  not  intended  to  spend  the  night  at  Corral 
Falzo,  but  Ramon  Chapparo,  the  owner,  was  so  cordially  insistent 
in  his  invitation  that  we  remained.  We  flattered  ourselves  that  we 
were  actually  enjoying  the  proverbial  free-handed  hospitality  of  the 
plainsman.  Imagine  our  surprise  this  morning  when  he  announced 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


77 


as  we  were  about  to  leave  that  we  owed  him  fourteen  bolivars  ($2.80). 
He  said  this  was  for  the  food  for  our  men  and  mules.  He  assured 
us  that  he  was  charging  nothing  for  our  own  board.  Nevertheless, 
this  was  hardly  the  kind  of  hospitality  that  we  had  been  led  to  expect 
by  his  repeated  and  urgent  invitations. 

A  league  beyond  Corral  Falzo  we  came  to  the  Canagua  River. 
It  is  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  across,  and  looks  like  the 
Bocono  and  the  Paguei.  The  river  at  this  season  was  not  more  than 


The  Banks  of  the  Canagua. 


three  feet  deep  and  there  are  no  canoes  here.  The  banks  are  fairly 
steep,  and  the  men  worked  hard  for  two  hours  to  make  it  possible 
for  the  empty  cart  to  pass.  To  carry  over  the  heavy  luggage  we 
pressed  the  guide’s  saddle  ox  into  service. 

Don  Francisco  had  thoughtfully  provided  light  refreshments, 
but  he  waited  until  the  men  and  the  cart  had  gone  on  before  he 
brought  them  out.  Food  is  so  hard  to  get  in  this  half-starved  coun¬ 
try  that  those  who  have  any  variety  resort  to  various  dodges  in  order 
to  prevent  their  supply  from  being  too  speedily  consumed.  The 


78 


VENEZUELA 


lunch  consisted  of  sugar-cane,  cold  boiled  eggs,  cold  boiled  sweet 
cassava,  salt,  and  muddy  river  water.  When  we  were  camping  at 
Carabobo,  and  for  a  week  thereafter,  we  were  very  careful  to  drink 
only  boiled  water,  but  we  have  gradually  allowed  that  custom  to  fall 
into  desuetude. 

Three  leagues  beyond  the  Canagua  River  brought  us  to  La  Cal- 
zada,  Don  Francisco’s  comfortable  ranch.  It  was  like  other  ranches 


Our  Host  at  La  Calzada. 


in  general  appearance,  but  it  did  not  take  long  to  see  that  the  owner 
was  much  more  energetic  than  his  Venezuelan  neighbours.  In  the 
construction  of  the  main  dwelling  he  had  taken  pains  to  build  some¬ 
thing  a  little  out  of  the  ordinary,  rounding  one  end  of  the  house  so  as 
to  make  a  very  attractive  living-room,  even  though  the  floor  was,  as 
usual,  of  baked  earth,  and  the  roof  of  thatch. 

Nothing  remains  of  the  house  where  General  Paez  lived  but  a 
charred  post  or  so  in  a  neighbouring  grove.  It  is  said  that  Paez  lived 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


79 


here  from  the  time  he  was  three  years  old  until  he  entered  the  army. 
Here  he  first  organized  his  cowboy  regiment,  the  Bravos  of  Apure. 
To  this  ranch  he  fled  for  safety  when  defeated  by  the  Spaniards. 
When  they  followed  him  he  hid  in  a  grove  near  by,  which  is  now 
known  as  the  Temple  of  Independence.  He  was  Venezuela’s  Rough 
Rider,  the  most  popular  soldier  of  the  Wars  of  Independence.  The 
first  president  of  Venezuela  after  the  separation  from  Colombia  in 
1830,  he  led  a  very  active  life,  although  obliged  to  pass  the  latter  part 
of  it  as  an  exile  in  New  York,  where  he  died  in  1873.  It  is  to  the 
credit  of  President  Castro  that  he  is  the  first  dictator  of  Venezuela 
who  has  had  the  courage  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  this  famous 
Liberal  by  erecting  a  statue  to  his  memory  in  the  new  Paraiso  park 
in  Caracas. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  ranch  house  is  a  little  hill  from  which 
one  gets  a  marvellous  view  of  the  plains,  stretching  away  as  flat  as  a 
billiard  table  in  every  direction,  the  horizon  bounded  by  the  heavily 
wooded  banks  of  streams.  Although  it  is  not  more  than  thirty  feet 
high  we  have  not  seen  any  hill  like  it  since  we  left  Barinas.  It  may 
be  artificial.  On  its  sides  Don  Francisco  has  planted  sugar-cane 
and  also  several  kinds  of  beans,  cassava,  potatoes,  maize,  and  tobacco. 
There  is  an  irrigation  canal  running  by  his  little  plantation  which 
he  says  was  dug  by  the  Spaniards.  Don  Francisco  owns  about  one 
thousand  head  of  cattle  and  nine  leagues  of  land.  The  whole  estab¬ 
lishment  is  an  evidence  of  what  an  energetic  man  can  do  in  this 
country.  Our  host  is  a  bachelor,  but  has  a  dozen  house  servants 
besides  a  number  of  cowboys,  and  sets  a  better  table  and  enjoys 
more  luxuries  than  any  one  within  a  radius  of  a  hundred  miles. 
While  his  neighbours  are  content  with  one  vegetable,  he  has  half  a 
dozen.  Where  they  have  possibly  one  book,  he  has  twenty,  and 
for  every  bath  that  they  take  he  takes  fifty.  In  fact  Don  Francisco 
is  quite  the  most  active,  intelligent  person  we  have  seen  since  we  bade 
farewell  to  Don  Carlos  in  Valencia. 

February  Sfh.  Don  Francisco  has  worked  hard  writing  letters 
for  us  to  take  to  his  friends  in  Arauca  and  his  brothers  in  Sogamoso. 
The  nearest  post-office  is  fifty  miles  away.  This  morning  he  had  to 
leave  us,  but  he  bade  us  stay  as  long  as  we  could  be  comfortable.  We 
decided  to  rest  the  weary  cart  mule  and  not  go  on  until  tomorrow. 


8o 


VENEZUELA 


The  housekeeper,  a  wizened  up  old  lady  of  sixty,  gave  us  a  magnifi¬ 
cent  breakfast  this  morning  about  nine  o’clock  which  included  an 
omelette-aux-fines-herbes ,  a  most  delightful  surprise.  We  have  greatly 
enjoyed  the  ease  and  luxury  of  this  little  oasis. 

The  temperature  here  was  64°  F.  at  six  o’clock,  8o°  at  nine  o’clock, 
86°  at  twelve  o’clock,  8g°  at  three  o’clock,  82°  at  6  p.m.,  770  at 
9  p.m.,  750  at  10.30  p.m.  This  was  a  fair  average  day.  In  general 
there  is  a  daily  range  in  the  temperature  of  twenty-five  to  thirty 
degrees. 


Grinding  Sugar  at  La  Calzada. 


February  gth.  We  rose  at  4.30  this  morning  and  left  La 
Calzada  about  six  o’clock.  Although  the  cart  had  been  fully 
packed  the  night  before,  it  took  us  nearly  as  long  to  get  started  after 
arising  as  it  usually  does.  The  men  simply  cannot  hurry.  We 
rigged  a  tandem  harness  yesterday  and  put  the  blue  mule  in  as 
leader.  He  soon  learned  to  pull  well  and  helps  to  keep  things 
moving.  Our  guide  to-day  was  a  nephew  of  the  housekeeper.  He 
is  a  rather  stupid  boy  of  sixteen,  and  rides  a  meek  little  donkey. 
Our  greatest  annoyance  is  a  little  fly  which  is  very  active  except  when 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


the  breeze  is  blowing.  A  fresh  breeze  that  blows  for  three  or  four 
hours  every  morning  from  the  northeast  is  the  salvation  of  these  hot 
plains. 

We  saw  several  deer  this  morning,  and  I  shot  a  young  buck  that 
proved  to  be  very  toothsome.  The  country  seems  to  be  well  stocked 
with  game,  chiefly  water-fowl.  I  was  so  fortunate  as  to  bring  down 
a  jabiru  with  my  rifle.  This  giant  stork  measured,  standing,  five 


Dr.  Rice,  Richard  and  the  Jabiru. 


feet  ten  inches  from  the  point  of  its  beak  to  its  toes.  Its  spread  from 
tip  to  tip  of  wings  was  seven  feet  ten  inches  and  the  beak  alone  was 
a  foot  long.  The  neck  had  almost  no  feathers  but  a  very  tough  dark 
gray  skin,  with  a  red  band  at  its  base.  The  body  was  covered  with 
beautiful  white  feathers;  some  of  the  wing  feathers  being  14  inches 
long.  These  have  a  commercial  value,  so  the  birds  are  exceedingly 
shy,  quite  as  shy  in  fact  as  the  egrets,  and  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
get  within  gunshot  of  them.  When  approaching  a  lagoon  or  a  river 


82 


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bank,  the  jabirus  and  the  egrets  are  always  the  first  to  fly  away, 
while  the  hawks,  buzzards,  and  other  carnivorous  and  carrion  birds 
are  extremely  tame  and  sometimes  allow  one  to  approach  within  a 
few  feet.  No  one  ever  takes  the  trouble  to  kill  them,  and  they  seem 
to  realize  it.  The  birds  whose  feathers  are  salable  are  hunted  in  the 
wet  season  when  the  plains  are  flooded  and  it  is  easy  to  pass  quietly 
in  canoes  through  the  jungle  to  their  nests.  It  is  difficult  to  handle 
cattle  then,  and  the  bird-hunting  fits  in  well.  Unfortunately  the  wet 
season  is  the  breeding  season,  so  the  egrets  and  jabirus  are  becoming 
scarcer  every  year. 

Four  leagues  beyond  La  Calzada  we  came  to  the  little  hamlet 
of  Suripa.  The  temperature  in  the  shade  at  noon  was  930  F.  This 
is  the  hottest  yet.  The  guide  wanted  to  spend  the  night  here,  but  as 
there  were  still  several  hours  of  daylight  we  determined  to  reel  off 
another  league  or  two  before  dark.  Night  fell  before  we  reached 
water,  the  guide  lost  his  bearings,  but  we  followed  a  path  until  nine 
o’clock,  when  we  found  ourselves  on  the  banks  of  a  great  river  which 
the  guide  said  he  had  never  seen  before.  It  was  a  fine  night,  so  we 
camped  in  the  open. 

February  ictli.  As  soon  as  it  was  light  this  morning  we  made 
out  four  houses  not  far  off.  Boca  Suripa,  for  which  we  were  aiming, 
was  only  a  mile  away.  We  found  that  we  had  camped  on  the  banks 
of  the  Suripa  River,  which  is  like  the  Bocono  and  Canagua  in  appear¬ 
ance,  a  deep  muddy  stream  with  high  banks  and  sandy  shores. 
We  had  happened  upon  a  great  spot  for  alligators  and  had  the  satis¬ 
faction  of  shooting  eight  or  ten  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour. 

At  the  mouth  of  the  Suripa,  where  its  waters  flow  into  the  Apure, 
is  Boca  Suripa,  a  hamlet  of  half  a  dozen  thatched  huts,  the  homes 
of  the  ferrymen  and  of  Dr.  Gabaldon  who  owns  the  ferry  rights. 
There  are  a  number  of  canoes  here  and  the  men  are  skilled  in  swim¬ 
ming  cattle  across  the  rapid  current.  The  cattle  raised  in  the  great 
region  to  the  south  of  us  are  generally  brought  across  the  Apure  at  a 
point  just  below  the  junction  of  the  rivers  where  the  Apure  is  quite 
narrow.  There  is  a  good  beach  on  the  south  side  with  a  feasible 
landing-place  on  the  north  side.  It  would  have  been  impossible  to 
take  our  cart  across  the  large  rivers  that  form  the  Apure  and  the 
Suripa,  but  we  had  heard  that  we  could  get  it  ferried  across  here. 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


83 


Dr.  Gabaldon  was  not  at  home,  but  his  son  Dr.  Miguel  was  in  charge 
of  the  establishment.  He  and  his  helpers  had  been  quite  alarmed 
by  our  camp-fire  last  night  and  our  firing  at  the  alligators  in  the  morn¬ 
ing.  They  supposed  us  to  be  a  revolutionary  band.  As  soon  as  he 
read  our  letters  of  introduction  he  made  us  most  welcome  and  urged 
us  to  spend  the  night  as  his  guests  after  sending  our  men  and  ani¬ 
mals  across  the  river.  The  empty  cart  was  put  athwart  one  of  the 
canoes  and  with  its  wheels  slowly  revolving  in  the  water  looked  like 
some  strange  paddle  steamer.  It  was  an  awkward  load  to  handle 
on  the  little  dugout,  but  skilful  canoemen  got  it  safely  across.  Towed 
by  men  in  canoes,  the  mules  swam  across,  most  of  them  showing 
nothing  above  the  water  except  head  and  ears.  But  the  cart  mule 
evidently  desired  to  keep  his  tail  dry,  for  he  waved  it  violently  all  the 
way  across  the  river.  It  was  so  ridiculous  it  made  us  roar  with 
laughter,  until  we  saw  several  large  alligators  swimming  near  the 
mules.  Fortunately  we  shot  two  and  the  others  disappeared.  At 
this  season  of  the  year  the  water  is  low  enough  to  allow  the  canoes 
to  be  poled  nearly  all  the  way  across  the  river  by  poles  twelve  feet 
long.  During  the  winter  season  a  small  steamer  comes  from  Ciudad 
Bolivar  up  the  Apure  and  goes  to  Periquera  some  distance  beyond 
this  point. 

Achaguas,  the  rendezvous  for  the  Liberating  Army  in  1819,  is 
only  seventy-five  miles  to  the  eastward.1  On  its  celebrated  march  to 
Colombia  the  army  passed  over  a  trail  a  mile  south  of  us,  which  we 
shall  strike  soon  after  crossing  the  river.  From  here  to  the  Bridge 
of  Boyaca,  the  scene  of  the  culminating  victory  of  the  campaign, 
we  shall  try  to  follow  Bolivar’s  route  as  closely  as  possible. 

The  Caparro  River,  once  the  most  important  affluent  of  the 
Apure  above  its  junction  with  the  Suripa,  no  longer  flows  into  that 
river,  except  on  the  maps.  A  few  years  ago  the  Caparro  left  its  old 
bed  some  distance  above  Mamporal,  and  finding  a  new  passage 
northward  joined  the  Suripa  above  Santa  Rosalia.  At  present  the 
region  near  here  presents  a  very  pretty  example  of  river  formation 
going  on  at  a  rapid  rate.  The  stream  of  the  Suripa  is  very  muddy 
and  carries  a  large  amount  of  sediment,  while  the  Apure  is  quite 
clear.  There  are  many  shoals  and  islands  where  the  rivers  join. 

1  For  an  account  of  the  Campaign  of  1819  see  Appendix  A. 


84 


VENEZUELA 


The  Suripa,  now  larger  than  the  Apure,  is  rapidly  cutting  a  new 
channel  for  itself  in  order  to  become  adjusted  to  the  new  conditions. 

February  11th.  Late  last  evening  Dr.  Gabaldon  arrived  on  horse¬ 
back  from  a  place  sixteen  leagues  away.  This  seemed  to  us  like  very 
rapid  transit,  as  only  once  have  we  succeeded  in  making  more  than 
seven  leagues.  Contrary  to  the  habits  of  the  country,  he  had  not 
stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  but  had  been  riding  all  day  long. 
His  servant  who  rode  with  him  was  quite  exhausted,  but  our  host, 
although  seventy-three  years  old,  declared  that  he  was  not  in  the  least 
fatigued.  He  is  a  fine  old  fellow,  and  looks  very  much  like  Senor 
Sagasta,  the  late  Spanish  Premier.  Unlike  most  of  his  countrymen,  he 
appears  to  have  only  pure  Spanish  blood  in  his  veins.  His  eyes  are 
bright,  he  is  very  fond  of  a  joke  and  he  has  a  fine  figure.  He  has 
travelled  in  Europe  and  all  over  Venezuela  and  Colombia;  saw  the 
Philadelphia  Exposition;  lived  for  several  months  in  New  York 
City  during  Grant’s  Administration,  and  again  in  1892;  and  has  seen 
Niagara  Falls.  He  is  fond  of  dispensing  hospitality  and  manages 
to  live  fairly  well  even  in  this  little  thatched  hut  on  the  edge  of  the 
world.  Every  now  and  then  he  brings  out  from  his  private  stores 
some  choice  delicacy  or  a  rare  fruit  with  which  to  tempt  our  appe¬ 
tites.  It  seemed  very  strange  to  find  such  well-read,  intelligent  men 
as  Dr.  Gabaldon  and  his  son  so  far  off  in  the  wilderness.  However, 
they  see  various  people  who  come  here  to  cross  the  ferry,  and  their 
monopoly  of  the  charges  brings  them  in  a  very  comfortable  income. 
They  get  two  bolivars  a  head  for  all  the  cattle  that  cross  the  river 
here,  and  this  amounts  in  some  weeks  to  a  couple  of  hundred  dollars. 

This  morning  a  cattle  speculator,  a  friend  of  Castro’s,  crossed 
the  river  with  about  three  hundred  head  of  cattle.  Some  fifty  or 
sixty  of  the  frightened  animals  were  cut  out  of  the  herd  by  the  cow¬ 
boys  on  the  south  side  of  the  river  and  driven  down  to  the  beach, 
where  a  lane  made  of  bamboo  was  intended  to  guide  them  to  the 
water’s  edge  and  aid  in  forcing  them  in.  Then  a  tame  ox  with  a 
rope  tied  to  the  end  of  his  nose  was  pulled  into  the  river  and  across 
by  the  ferrymen  in  a  canoe.  The  cowboys  yelled  and  shouted,  urg¬ 
ing  the  cattle  into  the  water,  but  the  first  lot  of  steers  stampeded 
when  they  came  to  the  river’s  edge  and  smashed  up  the  bamboo 
fences.  One  steer  was  killed  and  others  were  injured,  but  finally 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


85 


fifty  of  them  were  forced  into  the  river  and  proceeded  to  swim  across, 
several  canoes  keeping  them  from  going  too  far  down  stream.  They 
all  had  long  horns,  and  that  was  about  all  one  could  see  of  them 
as  they  swam  the  river.  The  long  line  of  horns  following  the  lead¬ 
ing  canoe,  other  canoes  on  flank  and  rear,  made  an  interesting  sight. 
The  shouting  of  the  ferrymen  and  the  cowboys  added  to  the  excite¬ 
ment,  which  was  not  lessened  by  the  appearance  of  several  large 
alligators  close  to  the  swimming  herd. 

Dr.  Gabaldon  insisted  on  our  spending  another  day  with  him  “so 
that  the  mules  might  have  a  rest.”  In  fact,  he  urges  us  to  stay  for 
ten  days,  but  is  willing  that  we  should  talk  about  going  “  tomorrow.” 

February  12th.  As  soon  as  we  get  up  in  the  morning  our  genial 
host  brings  us  a  cup  of  most  delicious  coffee.  The  first  sound  we 
hear  in  the  morning  and  the  last  at  night  is  the  “crunch,  crunch”  of 
the  coffee  beans  as  the  maid-servants  grind  them  slowly  to  powder 
with  a  small  round  stone  on  a  large  flat  stone  that  has  been  hollowed 
out.  Fresh  milk  is  a  rarity  in  this  cattle  country  as  it  is  “too  much 
trouble”  to  tame  a  cow  and  milk  her  with  the  aid  of  her  calf.  But 
Dr.  Gabaldon  is  accustomed  to  making  people  work,  and  as  soon  as 
we  have  finished  our  hot  coffee  he  brings  us  great  gourds  of  foam¬ 
ing  milk  fresh  from  the  cow. 

We  expected  to  cross  the  Apure  today,  but  our  polite  host  has 
put  all  manner  of  obstacles  in  the  way.  It  appears  to  be  tremendously 
difficult  to  get  a  competent  guide!  A  boy  was  introduced  yesterday 
who  was  willing  for  four  dollars  to  guide  us  for  eight  leagues.  As 
our  last  boy  guide  lost  his  head  completely,  we  did  not  take  kindly 
to  the  idea  of  engaging  this  one,  especially  at  such  an  exorbitant 
price.  We  were  then  told  that  Liborio,  the  chief  of  the  canoemen 
and  a  most  intelligent  fellow,  would  go  as  our  guide  as  far  as  Palmarito, 
but  this  morning  another  cattle  speculator  arrived  on  the  south  bank 
of  the  river  and  required  the  services  of  every  available  man  to  assist 
him  in  bringing  four  hundred  head  of  cattle  across.  Nevertheless, 
Liborio  was  to  finish  this  task  very  quickly  and  start  with  us  “  after 
breakfast.”  As  the  only  other  good  guide  was  drunk,  we  were 
obliged  to  wait  for  Liborio.  “After  breakfast”  turned  out  to  mean 
“not  at  all,”  for  the  cowboys  on  the  south  side  of  the  river  got  very 
drunk  last  night  and  were  in  no  condition  to  make  an  early  start  this 


86 


VENEZUELA 


morning.  The  usual  strong  breeze  springing  up  on  time  at  8.15 
made  the  river  too  rough  for  safety.  The  current  is  strong  and  the 
wind  blowing  up-stream  made  a  very  choppy  sea  with  waves  of 
considerable  size,  so  the  cattle  and  the  cowboys  and  the  ferrvmen  and 
Liborio  had  to  wait  until  afternoon,  and  by  the  time  all  the  cattle 
were  safely  across  the  river  it  was  too  late  to  do  anything. 

Since  leaving  Corral  Falzo  we  have  observed  a  daily  change  in 
the  wind,  which,  we  are  told,  is  characteristic  of  the  dry  season. 
During  the  night  it  is  scarcely  more  than  a  zephyr;  increases  a  little 
with  the  sunrise  but  does  not  really  attract  one’s  attention  until 
shortly  after  eight,  when  it  begins  to  freshen  rapidly  and  by  ten 
o’clock  is  blowing  almost  a  gale  from  the  east.  Towards  noon  it 
dies  down,  and  in  the  afternoon  there  is  scarcely  any  motion  in  the 
air. 

February  13th.  The  breeze  began  an  hour  earlier  today,  and 
by  nine  o’clock  was  blowing  very  freshly,  so  that  some  of  the  thatch 
was  torn  off  the  roof  of  the  house.  It  was  decided  this  morning  that 
Liborio  could  not  be  spared,  but  fortunately  the  other  available 
guide  had  sobered  up  and  was  ready  to  proceed.  Dr.  Miguel 
desires  to  go  up  the  Apure  to  Palmarito  and  invited  me  to  accompany 
him  in  his  canoe.  We  are  to  be  two  days  on  the  river,  and  shall 
spend  the  night  camping  on  one  of  the  sand  banks  on  its  edge. 

The  canoe  was  of  average  size,  a  dugout  about  two  and  one-half 
feet  wide  and  twenty-five  feet  long.  Ten  or  eleven  feet  of  the  fore 
part  of  the  canoe  was  reserved  as  a  runway  for  the  pole-man.  The 
pilot  with  a  paddle  sat  in  the  stern,  the  boxes  and  bundles  were  placed 
amidships,  and  Dr.  Miguel  and  I  made  ourselves  as  comfortable  as 
possible  between  the  pilot  and  the  luggage.  Our  cargo,  though  small, 
was  quite  varied  and  included  two  large  tortoises,  a  live  duck,  rice, 
macaroni,  salt,  coffee,  beans,  eggs,  native  sugar,  Danish  canned 
butter,  Spanish  sardines,  plantains,  and  cooking  utensils.  Soon  after 
embarking  we  passed  a  sand  bank  where  I  had  shot  a  small  alligator 
the  previous  day.  Notwithstanding  the  toughness  of  its  skin,  the 
buzzards  had  attacked  the  carcass  and  about  finished  their  work. 
There  remained  two  large  birds  called  King  Samurs  which  we  saw 
nowhere  else.  Dr.  Miguel  told  me  he  had  never  seen  two  together 
before  and  that  it  was  a  rare  occurrence  to  see  even  one.  They 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


*7 


appeared  to  be  nearly  twice  as  large  as  ordinary  buzzards.  Their 
heads  were  red,  body  white,  wings  tipped  with  black,  and  tail  black. 

Whenever  it  was  possible  we  set  a  small  sail  and  gave  the  pole- 
man  a  rest.  His  method  is  to  walk  slowly  to  the  bow,  turn  about, 
plant  his  pole  firmly  on  the  bottom  of  the  stream,  and  with  five  short 
steps  at  a  half  trot  give  the  boat  a  good  impetus,  when  he  would  turn 
and  with  five  slow  steps  go  back  again  to  the  bow. 

We  left  Boca  Suripa  about  eleven  o’clock  and  at  one  reached  the 
village  of  Grateral  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Apure.  We  landed  and 
found  half  a  dozen  thatched  huts  where  we  tried  to  purchase  some 
fresh  eggs,  but  did  not  succeed  until  we  reached  the  last  hut,  where 
an  old  Indian  woman  who  wore  a  beautiful  gold  necklace  was  willing 
to  sell  us  a  few.  She  had  a  couple  of  interesting  chairs  with  rawhide 
seats  that  I  should  like  to  have  sent  home.  One  often  wishes  for 
means  of  easy  transportation  for  the  interesting  things  to  be  found 
here. 

For  lunch  we  had  some  “gofio,”  a  nutritious  cake  made  of  finely 
ground  maize  and  “papelon.”  The  maize  is  cooked  before  being 
mixed  with  the  sugar,  and  the  cake  is  baked  in  the  sun.  It  is  very 
palatable  and  a  favourite  food  for  travellers.  We  left  Grateral  at 
half-past  one.  The  wind  had  died  down  completely  and  the  little 
black  flies  were  an  awful  plague.  Even  our  stolid  Indian  pilot 
groaned.  A  swarm  of  from  forty  to  fifty  flies  buzzed  around  each 
person.  With  my  head-net  and  gloves  1  was  the  only  person  in  the 
canoe  that  had  any  comfort.  It  is  much  pleasanter  to  travel  up  these 
streams  than  down,  for  the  prevailing  winds  blow  from  the  north¬ 
east,  up-stream,  and  persons  going  down  stream  frequently  find  that 
in  the  morning  while  the  breeze  is  blowing  they  can  make  no  prog¬ 
ress  at  all.  This  necessitates  travelling  in  the  hottest  time  of  the  day 
when  the  breeze  has  died  down  and  the  flies  are  very  bad. 

We  saw  numbers  of  alligators,  a  few  iguanas  who  had  holes  in 
the  banks  of  the  river,  and  a  great  many  birds.  In  one  tree  there 
were  sixteen  large  macaws.  The  egrets  and  jabirus  were  noticeably 
shy.  In  fact  it  was  extremely  difficult  to  come  within  gunshot  of 
the  birds  that  are  hunted  for  food  or  feathers.  About  three  o’clock 
we  saw  a  hundred  jabirus  having  a  meeting  on  a  great  sandy  beach. 
In  a  quiet  cove  near  by  were  sixteen  alligators.  It  seemed  to  be  a 


88 


VENEZUELA 


favourite  spot  for  an  animal  congress.  Among  the  birds  we  saw 
a  few  large,  handsome  ducks  called  carreteros.  They  walk  with  a 
strut  like  a  grandee  and  hold  their  heads  very  high,  somewhat  like 
geese.  I  am  told  that  when  their  eggs  are  hatched  by  a  barn-yard 
fowl,  the  carretero  makes  an  excellent  domestic  animal,  being  espe¬ 
cially  useful  as  a  substitute  for  a  watch-dog;  but  if  the  ducklings  are 
hatched  by  their  mother  it  is  impossible  to  tame  them. 

About  five  o’clock  we  reached  a  sand-bank  known  as  La  Tigra, 
a  favourite  camping  place  for  river  travellers  during  the  dry  season. 
In  the  winter  it  is  submerged  to  a  depth  of  from  five  to  six  feet.  We 
easily  found  plenty  of  driftwood  for  our  camp-fire,  and  three  large 
pieces  to  serve  as  posts  for  the  ends  of  our  hammocks.  One  can 
nearly  always  tell  where  the  rivermen  have  camped  by  these  strange- 
looking  posts  that  are  planted  fairly  close  together  on  the  sand-banks. 

February  14th.  Last  evening  I  had  a  long  conversation  in  regard 
to  theosophy.  Dr.  Miguel  is  an  ardent  believer,  and  regards  Madam 
Blavatsky’s  “Isis  Unveiled”  as  the  greatest  book  of  modern  times. 
He  was  born  in  Colombia,  where  his  father  was  a  political  exile  for 
fourteen  years,  but  lived  as  a  student  in  Caracas  for  eleven  years  and 
took  his  degree  as  doctor  of  laws  at  the  University,  later  entering 
upon  the  practice  of  law  in  that  city.  He  speaks  English  fairly  well, 
as  he  once  lived  in  Barbados  for  more  than  a  year  and  in  Trinidad 
for  two  months. 

During  the  night  we  had  a  light  breeze  from  the  north,  but  early 
this  morning  it  shifted  around  to  the  east.  The  air  was  damp  and 
cold  and  my  heavy  Jaeger  blankets  were  none  too  warm.  There 
were  a  few  mosquitoes.  The  river  people  all  use  thick  curtain  mos¬ 
quito  nets  which  they  hang  from  a  string  stretched  over  the  hammock. 
As  I  had  no  net  I  put  on  my  gloves  and  my  head-net  and  was  able  to 
enjoy  a  good  night’s  rest. 

The  banks  of  the  river  are  in  general  from  eight  to  sixteen  feet 
above  us  as  we  go  along.  The  soil  seems  to  be  a  mixture  of  clay  and 
sand.  One  sees  practically  no  stones.  This  morning  we  met  four 
or  five  canoes  going  down  stream.  When  exactly  abeam  of  us,  all 
hands  simultaneously  shouted,  “ Adios ”  or  “ Adios  pues.”  We  left 
La  Tigra  at  about  quarter  before  seven  and  reached  Algarobo  at 
half-past  eight,  just  as  the  breeze  was  freshening.  Algarobo  con- 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


89 


sists  of  but  two  or  three  houses,  and  we  stayed  only  long  enough  to 
learn  that  Rice  and  the  caravan  had  spent  the  night  here  and  gone 
on  just  before  our  arrival.  The  breeze  now  increased  in  velocity 
so  as  to  raise  great  clouds  of  sand  from  the  exposed  shoals.  It  was 
almost  too  strong  for  our  little  sail,  but  we  made  great  headway  for  a 
couple  of  hours,  until  half-past  eleven,  when  the  breeze  diminished 
perceptibly,  as  was  to  be  expected,  and  by  noon  was  reduced  to  a 
series  of  fitful  gusts. 

We  reached  Palmarito  about  two  o’clock  and  found  that  the 
caravan  had  arrived  half  an  hour  before  us.  It  had  a  fairly  straight 


A  Bungo  on  the  Apure  River. 


road  all  the  way  from  Boca  Suripa  but  made  almost  exactly  the  same 
progress  as  the  canoe,  which  had  to  follow  the  windings  of  the  river. 
There  is  no  inn  here  and  we  are  staying  with  a  friend  of  Dr.  Miguel’s 
who  does  not  furnish  us  with  any  food,  and  we  should  have  been 
rather  badly  off  but  for  the  supplies  in  the  canoe. 

Shortly  before  reaching  Palmarito,  we  passed  what  had  once 
been  the  mouth  of  the  Caparro  River,  but  is  now  only  a  small  inlet 
or  backwater. 

Palmarito  is  a  thriving  little  river  town  of  about  fifty  houses, 
situated  on  the  south  side  of  the  Apure  at  a  place  where  the  bank 
is  unusually  high,  twenty  feet,  above  the  stream.  Steamers  touch 
here  during  five  months  of  the  year,  June  to  November,  on  their  way 


9° 


VENEZUELA 


to  Periquera  from  Ciudad  Bolivar;  consequently  all  the  houses  that 
can  afford  it  have  corrugated  iron  roofs.  There  are  several  good 
shops;  the  best  ones  being  owned  by  Syrians.  At  this  time  of  the 
year  there  is  little  business  in  these  river  towns,  and  they  depend  for 
communication  with  the  outside  world  on  canoes  and  bungoes,  large 
cargo  canoes  that  are  poled  by  three  or  four  men. 

Rice  found  a  case  of  appendicitis  at  Algarobo  and  another  here 
at  Palmarito,  so  that  next  to  malaria,  which  seems  to  affect  nine 
tenths  of  the  population,  it  is  apparently  the  fashionable  disease  in 
this  locality. 

A  young  lawyer  here  told  me  the  story  of  how  he  came  to  leave 
Caracas.  It  seems  that  four  years  ago  there  died  in  Caracas  a 
Colombian  leaving  an  estate  of  about  sixty-eight  thousand  dollars, 
which  included  a  dozen  houses  in  that  city.  He  left  no  will  and  it 
was  some  months  before  his  nephew,  representing  his  natural  heirs, 
arrived  from  Colombia.  In  the  meantime,  the  public  administrator, 
the  courts  and  a  few  “great  ones”  had  been  dividing  the  property 
amongst  themselves.  Absurd  claims  against  the  estate  were  ordered 
to  be  paid,  the  claimants  getting  a  small  fraction  while  the  larger 
proportion  went  to  the  judge  and  the  administrator.  The  heir  at 
law  employed  this  lawyer  and  his  partner  to  rescue  what  they  could 
of  the  estate.  All  they  succeeded  in  saving  was  about  eighteen  thou¬ 
sand  dollars.  However,  the  graft  had  been  taken  so  openly  that  they 
felt  sure  of  being  able  to  bring  a  criminal  suit  whereby  a  large  part 
of  the  estate  could  be  recovered.  The  heir  offered  them  half  of  what 
they  might  recover.  They  proceeded  to  bring  the  case  before  the 
criminal  courts,  but  had  reckoned  without  realizing  how  powerful 
the  political  machine  is  in  Caracas.  The  morning  after  filing  the 
complaint  my  friend,  who  fortunately  was  living  at  the  same  board¬ 
ing-house  with  one  of  the  chief  city  officials,  was  informed  by  that 
gentleman  that  he  had  in  his  pocket  a  warrant  for  his  arrest,  which 
would  be  turned  over  to  the  police  in  the  course  of  the  morning.  It 
seems  that  the  grafters  had  obtained  an  order  for  the  arrest  of  both 
lawyers  and  their  imprisonment  without  trial  for  eighteen  days,  a 
period  just  long  enough  to  cause  the  criminal  suit  to  go  by  default. 
My  acquaintance  was  warned  by  the  friendly  official  to  stay  in  his 
room,  and  was  further  advised  that  there  was  a  good  hiding-place 


FROM  BARINAS  TO  THE  APURE  RIVER 


91 


in  the  house  where  he  could  secrete  himself  whenever  the  police 
came.  A  special  police  officer  detailed  for  the  service  of  this  official 
was  instructed  to  warn  the  young  lawyer  whenever  the  house  was 
likely  to  be  searched.  By  this  means,  owing  to  his  friendship  with 
the  city  official,  he  was  able  to  avoid  going  to  jail,  but  his  partner 
was  not  so  fortunate,  and  languished  in  the  filth  of  the  city  prison 
until  the  time  had  lapsed  during  which  their  criminal  suit  could  be 
brought.  After  his  partner  was  let  out  of  jail,  my  friend  was  free  to 
go  and  come  as  he  pleased,  but  soon  found  he  had  lost  all  chance 
of  winning  any  cases  in  the  courts  of  Caracas.  He  was  told  in  fact 
that  it  would  be  better  for  him  to  leave  the  city,  so  he  packed  his 
trunk  and  retired  to  the  interior,  where  the  aggrieved  Government 
authorities  have  so  far  left  him  alone.  The  story  is  quite  a  commen¬ 
tary  on  Venezuelan  justice,  and  offers  an  explanation  why  foreigners 
are  loath  to  have  their  cases  against  the  Government  tried  by  the 
Government’s  own  courts. 


CHAPTER  V 


From  the  Apure  River  to  Arauca 

February  15 th.  We  were  obliged  to  engage  a  new  guide  yester¬ 
day,  as  the  guide  from  Boca  Suripa  was  angry  with  Josh,  who  is  of 
little  use  except  as  a  talker,  and  would  go  no  farther.  Our  new  guide 
rides  an  ox  and  agrees  to  go  with  us  as  far  as  El  Amparo  on  the 
frontier.  He  came  at  half-past  eight,  but  finding  that  we  were  not 
ready,  went  off  again  while  we  were  packing.  We  spent  nearly  all 


Iguanas. 


day  waiting  for  him  to  return.  Tn  a  tree  near  the  house  were  three 
or  four  large  iguanas,  which  we  shot  hoping  to  have  them  cooked. 
The  largest  one  measured  nearly  five  feet  in  length,  but  no  one  was 
willing  to  prepare  it  for  food.  We  finally  left  Palmarito  about  four 
o’clock  and  struck  off  away  from  the  river  across  the  plains  again, 
reaching  about  eight  o’clock  a  small  lagoon  or  pond  where  we  camped 
for  the  night. 

February  16 th.  It  was  quite  cold  last  night  and  very  damp,  so 


92 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


93 


that  I  found  three  thick  blankets  and  four  thin  ones  none  too  warm, 
although  we  are  only  five  hundred  feet  above  the  sea  and  within 
seven  degrees  of  the  equator.  Just  at  dawn  I  made  out  a  flock  of 
ducks  swimming  on  the  pond  and  succeeded  in  killing  four  with  one 
shot.  These  with  some  plantains  bought  at  a  ranch  we  passed  last 
evening  made  a  good  breakfast.  The  familiar  breeze  began  at  half- 
past  seven  this  morning,  and  in  an  hour  increased  with  considerable 
freshness.  The  guide  caught  a  small  armadillo  just  after  breakfast, 
and  we  saw  them  quite  frequently  today.  None  of  them  behaved 
properly.  The  books  say:  “When  attacked,  they  curl  up  into  a  ball, 
presenting  their  armour  on  all  sides.”  These  did  nothing  of  the 
kind  but  ran  and  hid  under  little  bushes  and  would  not  “curl  up” 
under  any  circumstances.  But  they  are  good  eating. 

About  noon  I  noticed  a  mirage  for  the  first  time.  It  was  south 
of  us  and  extended  over  a  distance  of  two  or  three  miles.  The 
trees  did  not  appear  to  be  inverted,  but  wrere  raised  quite  off  the 
plain. 

Since  leaving  Barinas  there  has  been  no  pretense  at  a  road  what¬ 
ever.  We  have  generally  followed  cattle  paths  over  the  level  plains, 
but  today  these  got  much  worse.  Animals  passing  over  them  in 
the  wet  season  have  sometimes  stepped  so  regularly  as  to  make  them 
completely  corrugated.  When  the  corrugations  are  from  eight  to 
ten  inches  high  and  a  foot  and  a  half  across,  it  may  easily  be  imagined 
that  our  tired  cart  mule  finds  his  work  anything  but  easy.  As  a  large 
percentage  of  these  plains  are  swamps  in  wet  season,  and  now  look 
like  baked  honeycomb,  it  makes  terribly  rough  going. 

On  cur  right,  north  of  us,  the  horizon  is  generally  bounded  by 
the  jungles  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Apure.  On  our  left  the  plain 
seems  to  stretch  away  indefinitely  to  the  south.  Occasionally  we 
see  a  clump  of  palms  or  an  oasis.  This  noon  we  stopped  at  an  oasis, 
a  bit  larger  than  the  average.  It  contained  several  deer,  a  wild  hog, 
a  few  armadillos  and  two  golden  agouti.  The  latter  we  shot  and 
found  very  good  eating.  They  are  rodents,  a  little  larger  than 
rabbits,  have  smaller  heads  and  look  more  like  large  squirrels.  Our 
guide  calls  them  pagaris.  The  word  agouti  does  not  seem  to  be 
known  here.  At  two  o’clock  the  temperature  was  950  F.,  a  rise  of 
thirty  degrees  since  six  this  morning. 


94 


VENEZUELA 


This  evening  we  reached  La  Gloria,  a  large  ranch  belonging  to 
General  Guerrera.  He  was  not  at  home,  but  his  cowboys  made  us 
welcome,  after  I  had  read  to  them  a  letter  from  Dr.  Gabaldon  to 
their  master.  No  one  at  the  ranch  was  able  to  read.  The  huts 
were  so  full  of  bats  we  preferred  to  sleep  out  of  doors. 

February  17 th.  The  country  continues  to  have  the  same  appear¬ 
ance  as  for  weeks  past.  There  are  occasional  isolated  thickets,  but 
in  general  trees  are  only  found  along  the  banks  of  the  watercourses 
and  in  the  flood  plains  of  rivers. 

Soon  after  leaving  La  Gloria  I  saw  a  small  armadillo  nosing 
about  the  plain  getting  his  breakfast.  He  made  so  little  effort  to 
get  out  of  the  way  that  I  dismounted  and  picked  him  up,  rather  to 
his  surprise  and  that  of  my  mule’s.  The  latter  promptly  ran  away. 
But  the  armadillo  was  perfectly  quiet  until  I  put  him  down  on  the 
ground,  when  he  waited  several  moments  and  then  slowly  toddled 
off  in  a  casual  manner  until  quite  out  of  sight.  Richard  says  they 
are  very  wild  in  Trinidad.  They  are  tame  enough  here. 

Game  is  plentiful.  This  morning  I  shot  a  scarlet  ibis,  four  mal¬ 
lards,  and  two  venados,  one  of  them  a  fine  buck  with  six  points. 
As  the  caravan  got  a  long  way  ahead  while  we  were  filling  the  game 
bag  and  skinning  the  deer,  Richard  and  I  did  not  try  to  catch  up 
with  it  before  lunch,  but  spent  the  hot  hours  at  Grenadillo,  a  ranch 
owned  by  General  Narcisso  Paz,  to  whom  we  had  a  letter  of  intro¬ 
duction  from  Dr.  Gabaldon. 

The  General  was  at  home  and  gave  us  a  warm  welcome.  He  is 
quite  old,  almost  entirely  bald,  and  appears  to  be  quite  a  character. 
He  was  anxious  to  learn  the  news  of  the  day  and  deplored  the  state 
of  his  country.  He  said  its  greatest  need  was  immigration.  Labor 
is  scarce  and  wages  are  very  high  here.  A  few  men,  the  cattle  kings, 
are  rich;  the  rest  very  poor,  largely  on  account  of  their  extreme  lazi¬ 
ness.  The  Llaneros  are  picturesque  in  appearance,  with  their 
brilliant  red  and  blue  ponchos',  but  they  are  excessively  lazy,  do  not 
appear  to  care  for  games,  and  rarely  indulge  in  song.  They  will  not 
work  except  for  high  wages,  which  they  rarely  receive.  When  the 
cattle  kings  require  their  services  during  the  annual  round-ups,  they 
receive  from  three  to  five  dollars  a  day.  They  are  contented  with 
very  poor  food.  We  have  seen  no  arepa  (maize  cake)  for  nearly 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


95 


three  weeks.  The  people  raise  Indian  corn  but  are  too  lazy  to  grind 
it,  and  feed  it  only  to  horses,  mules,  pigs,  and  chickens. 

We  had  reached  the  ranch  about  half-past  twelve,  and  asked  to 
have  the  ducks  which  we  brought  cooked  at  once,  telling  them  we 
were  very  hungry.  It  was  half-past  three  before  anything  was  put 
on  the  table.  We  were  nearly  starved.  The  common  people  do 
not  appear  to  have  much  of  anything  to  eat  besides  beef  and  plan¬ 
tains.  Even  the  cattle  kings  are  too  lazy  to  vary  this  more  than  by 
the  addition  of  an  occasional  tin  of  some  canned  luxury  or  a  sweet 


Llaneros  at  Grenadillo. 


bun  brought  a  couple  of  hundred  miles  from  the  nearest  town  where 
there  is  a  bakery.  As  a  special  mark  of  his  good-will,  General  Paz 
gave  me  with  my  coffee  one  of  these  hard,  stale  buns  from  his  private 
store.  No  one  else  had  any. 

There  seems  to  be  no  regular  law  of  hospitality  on  the  plains, 
although  so  far  we  have  never  been  refused  shelter,  and  generally 
food  is  provided  without  difficulty.  This  may  be  due  to  our  number 
and  the  fact  that  we  carry  firearms.  It  is  hard  to  lay  down  a  general 
rule  in  a  country  where  one  day  we  are  charged  for  very  poor  fare 


96 


VENEZUELA 


after  being  urged  to  remain  as  guests;  where  the  next  day  we  are 
given  excellent  food  in  good  variety  for  which  we  are  not  allowed  to 
pay;  while  a  few  days  later  we  are  kindly  received  but  told  that 
there  is  no  food  unless  we  choose  to  buy  some  and  have  it  cooked  at 
our  own  expense. 

The  people  in  the  heart  of  the  Llanos  seem  to  be  less  suspicious 
and  more  inquisitive  than  those  living  in  the  cities  on  the  edge  of 
the  plain,  from  San  Carlos  to  Guanare.  They  are  likewise  less 
modest,  perhaps  less  honest,  but  more  hospitable. 

Immediately  after  lunch  we  set  out  accompanied  by  General 
Paz’s  majordomo  for  a  mile  or  so  until  we  found  the  trail  of  our 
cart.  Riding  at  a  good  jog-trot  we  reached  Desuela  in  an  hour  and 
a  half.  The  people  at  this  ranch  were  very  kind  and  urged  us  to 
spend  the  night  here  as  it  was  growing  dark,  but  as  the  caravan  had 
gone  on,  we  declined,  and  half  an  hour  later  overtook  the  cart  stuck 
in  a  bad  bit  of  road.  The  bad  trail  had  quite  used  up  the  cart  mule, 
so  that  he  lay  down  in  the  shafts  and  refused  to  go  any  further.  Poor 
Rafael  was  in  despair,  and  it  certainly  looked  as  if  he  would  never 
get  back  to  Valencia  with  cart  and  mule.  He  determined  to  spend 
the  night  in  the  savanna  while  we  pushed  on  to  the  ranch  called 
Gamelotal. 

February  18 th.  Gamelotal  belongs  to  Don  Fernando  Rangel, 
who  owns  a  dozen  milch  cows  and  makes  delicious  cheese.  He  was 
quite  alarmed  by  our  arrival  last  night,  as  very  few  people  travel 
after  dark.  He  refused  to  receive  us  in  the  house  where  he  was 
living,  saying  that  there  was  no  room,  but  offered  us  the  shelter  of  a 
vacant  house  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  away.  We  discovered 
today  that  the  reason  the  house  was  vacant  was  that  his  wife  and 
an  eighteen-year-old  daughter  died  there  a  few  weeks  ago,  both  of 
pulmonary  troubles.  He  has  four  children  left,  three  of  whom  are 
wretchedly  ill  with  malaria  and  anaemia.  The  baby  is  not  old 
enough  to  have  caught  anything  yet  and  is  the  only  well  person  in 
the  house.  Rice  prescribed  quinine  and  iron  for  the  three  sad-look- 
ing  children.  The  nearest  drug  shop  is  eighteen  miles  away  in 
Periquera,  and  as  Don  Fernando  was  anxious  to  get  the  medicine 
at  once  he  offered  to  accompany  us  thither.  The  cart  arrived  here 
this  morning  after  a  bad  night. 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


97 


The  new  dwelling,  evidently  erected  since  the  deaths,  is  extremely 
primitive  and  is  occupied  in  part  by  a  dozen  calves.  It  is  supposed 
that  milch  cows  will  not  give  down  their  milk  unless  they  are 
deceived  into  believing  that  their  calves  are  getting  their  breakfast. 
Consequently,  the  method  of  milking  is  to  tie  the  calf  to  the  cow’s 
front  leg  so  that  its  struggles  to  get  something  to  eat  keep  the  cow’s 
attention  engaged  while  she  is  being  milked.  At  most  of  the  ranches 
the  people  are  so  lazy  and  the  cattle  are  so  wild  that  fresh  milk  is  an 
unheard-of  luxury.  Once  in  a  while  one  finds  an  exception  as  here, 
where  we  had  all  the  foamy,  fresh  milk  we  could  possibly  drink  and 
all  the  fresh  cheese  and  fried  plantain  we  could  eat  for  breakfast. 

Don  Fernando  is  anxious  to  send  his  oldest  boy  to  the  States  to 
improve  his  health  and  get  a  little  learning,  but  as  he  could  afford  to 
pay  only  a  hundred  dollars  a  year,  we  advised  him  to  send  the  boy 
to  Valencia  to  our  friend  Father  Voghera.  Don  Fernando  had  not 
been  in  Valencia  since  1875  and  he  had  not  heard  of  the  new  board¬ 
ing-school  there. 

Soon  after  leaving  Gamelotal  we  came  to  “Las  Queseras  del 
Medio,”  a  bit  of  chapparal  where  General  Paez  had  a  bloody  en¬ 
counter  with  the  Spaniards  in  the  Wars  of  Independence.1  In 
appearance  it  is  not  different  from  the  other  parts  of  the  plain. 

The  savannas  are  growing  smaller,  marshes  more  frequent  and 
the  lines  of  trees  indicating  river-courses  closer  together.  About 
noon,  after  a  hard  trot  in  insufferable  heat  and  dust,  we  reached  a 
small  village  two  leagues  from  Periquera.  We  decided  to  spend  the 
heat  of  the  day  at  “La  Siberia,”  a  new  house  built  a  year  and  a  half 
ago  by  Rafael  Briceno,  who  had  lost  most  of  his  money  gambling  in 
Periquera.  He  made  us  welcome  with  the  usual  formalities,  placing 
everything  at  our  service,  but  contrary  to  custom  immediately  opened 
trade  relations.  He  was  extraordinarily  inquisitive,  wanted  to  see 
everything  we  had  and  to  know  its  cost,  and  tried  to  buy  the  various 
things  in  our  outfit  that  attracted  his  attention.  Although  he  annoyed 
us  exceedingly,  we  put  up  with  his  questions  and  his  bothersome 
hogs  that  had  free  run  of  the  living-room,  as  he  seemed  to  be  a  kind 

1  In  January,  i8qi,  a  number  of  Venezuelans  presented  the  city  of  New  York 
with  a  painting  by  Michelena  commemorative  of  this  battle,  as  a  token  of  gratitude 
for  the  hospitality  extended  to  their  hero,  who  died  as  an  exile  in  New  York. 


98 


VENEZUELA 


host  and  his  wife  prepared  us  a  good  meal.  Our  opinion  of  him  did 
not  improve  when  he  insisted  on  our  paying  one  dollar  a  head  for 
our  luncheon.  The  prevailing  price,  whenever  one  is  allowed  to 
pay  anything,  throughout  this  country,  is  never  more  than  twenty 
cents.  We  finally  offered  him  thirty  cents,  which  he  indignantly 
refused  until  almost  the  last  moment  of  our  stay.  He  is  the  most 
of  a  Yankee  that  we  have  seen  in  Venezuela,  alert,  intelligent,  never 
loafing,  keen  to  trade,  considerate  to  his  wife,  proud  of  his  achieve¬ 
ments  and  willing  to  charge  all  the  traffic  will  bear.  His  better 
qualities  are  sorely  needed  throughout  Venezuela. 

We  left  “La  Siberia,”  as  Don  Rafael  calls  his  establishment, 
about  four  o’clock  and  reached  Periquera  at  dusk.  The  last  mile 
or  two  was  the  very  worst  bit  of  road  that  we  had  seen  anywhere, 
so  bad  in  fact  that  the  cart  could  not  possibly  enter  the  town.  The 
ruts,  or  rather  corrugations,  made  in  the  road  by  the  hoofs  of  animals 
in  the  wet  season  and  now  baked  hard  as  rock  by  the  summer  sun, 
were  about  two  feet  deep  and  two  feet  across.  We  did  not  attempt 
to  bring  the  cart  into  the  town,  but  turned  back  to  stop  it  before  it 
should  attempt  that  awful  last  mile,  and  passed  the  night  at  Las 
Corrales,  an  excellent  caravanserai  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town. 
Our  avoidance  of  Periquera  came  near  costing  us  all  our  guns  and 
ammunition. 

February  igth.  We  were  told  last  evening  that  it  was  about 
four  leagues  to  El  Amparo,  the  frontier  town  which  is  on  the  River 
Arauca  opposite  the  town  of  that  name  in  Colombia.  Accordingly, 
we  rose  at  4.30  this  morning  in  order  to  reach  the  frontier  early  enough 
to  cross  the  river  before  dark.  But  one  of  the  mules  had  broken 
loose  during  the  night,  and  it  took  so  long  to  find  him  that  it  was 
half-past  nine  before  we  left  the  posada.  This  is  the  first  inn  that  we 
have  seen  since  leaving  Barinas.  Two  large  orange  trees  full  of 
fruit  gave  a  pleasant  change  to  the  bill  of  fare. 

The  road  this  morning  wound  through  partly  dried  swamps, 
jungle  and  small  savannas  until  it  entered  a  large  grove  where  the 
ancient  city  of  Guasdualito  stood.  One  can  find  it  on  almost  any 
large  map  of  South  America,  but  all  that  remains  of  it  in  reality  is  a 
pile  of  bricks  and  ruined  adobe  walls  where  once  stood  the  church. 
It  had  a  dry,  healthy  location,  much  better  than  that  of  the  new 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


99 


city,  Periquera,  a  league  away  on  the  banks  of  the  Apure.  The 
development  of  steam  navigation  on  that  river  and  the  presence  of 
swamps  between  old  Guasdualito  and  the  landing-place,  which  are 
quite  impassable  in  the  only  time  of  year  that  the  steamers  come  up 


The  Hostess  at  Las  Coer  ales. 


the  river,  led  the  inhabitants  to  abandon  the  old  town  entirely  and 
settle  on  the  river  bank,  although  the  new  site  is  frequently  sub¬ 
merged  by  floods. 

Near  old  Guasdualito  we  saw  a  little  sugar  factory  consisting  of 
three  thatched  roof  huts.  Two  are  occupied  by  the  “hands”  and 
the  largest  one  by  the  sugar  mill  itself.  The  cane  is  brought  to  the 


IOO 


VENEZUELA 


mill  on  the  back  of  a  small  ox  and  deposited  in  a  pile  near  the  rollers. 
The  latter  were  in  the  centre  of  the  hut.  A  pair  of  small  bulls  pulled 
a  windlass  which  acted  directly  on  the  centre  roller.  Two  boys  fed 
the  cane  into  the  mill  and  the  juice  trickled  down  into  a  wooden 
trough.  At  one  end  of  the  hut  was  an  adobe  furnace  with  two  large 
pots  or  boiling  pans  about  three  feet  in  diameter.  A  low  platform 


The  Sugar  Factory  near  Guasdualito. 


enabled  one  to  skim  the  boiling  molasses.  The  bagasse  was  spread 
out  in  the  sun  to  dry,  to  be  used  for  fuel  in  the  adobe  furnace.  Two 
boys  and  a  girl  seemed  to  be  running  the  entire  establishment.  The 
adults  were  probably  in  hiding  as  they  supposed  from  our  hunting 
guns  that  we  were  a  revolutionary  band  looking  for  “volunteers.”  I 
bought  a  cake  of  their  “panela”  for  ten  cents.  It  measured  8  x  6  x  if 
inches  and  tasted  very  much  like  a  poor  quality  of  maple  sugar. 

By  noon  we  reached  the  straggling  village  of  Cana  Flores,  in  the 
“border  country.”  The  women  and  children  were  obliging,  gave 
us  some  food,  and  asked  what  the  revolution  was  about.  They  said 
it  was  no  use  trying  to  work  as  there  was  always  warfare.  As  we 
rode  up  to  one  hut  to  inquire  the  way,  a  man  who  had  been  sleeping 
in  a  hammock  sprang  out  of  it  with  a  great  bound  and  made  for  the 
woods  as  fast  as  he  could  run. 

This  afternoon  we  saw  a  shower  in  the  distance,  the  first  one 
since  leaving  Valencia.  The  country  all  about  here  abounds  in 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


IOI 


marshes.  It  is  fairly  well  inhabited,  but  the  people  have  seen  so 
much  border  warfare  and  so  many  escaping  criminals  that  they  are 
very  timid,  and  we  met  few  men.  The  paths  were  perfectly  abomi¬ 
nable.  The  cart  was  obliged  to  make  long  detours  in  order  to  avoid 
bad  swamps  and  our  guide  finally  lost  his  way. 

About  four  o’clock  we  came  to  a  fork  in  the  trail  near  a  line  of 
poles  that  have  been  placed  to  accommodate  a  projected  telephone 
between  Periquera  and  El  Amparo.  We  differed  as  to  which  was 
the  best  way  to  go.  Rice  and  the  cart  took  the  left.  I  followed  the 
right  fork  and  about  five  o’clock  reached  El  Amparo.  Across  the 
river  was  Colombia,  where  a  diminutive  hut,  which  does  duty  for  a 


Cana  Flores. 


customs  house  guard,  was  all  I  could  see  of  Arauca.  Rice  lost  his 
way  and  did  not  arrive  until  four  hours  later. 

El  Amparo  has  the  appearance  of  being  rather  recently  built, 
many  of  the  houses  having  corrugated  iron  roofs.  All  are  huddled 
together  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Arauca  River.  There  are  half  a 
dozen  shops  and  fifty  or  sixty  dwellings.  From  May  to  November, 


102 


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The  Mistress  of  Cana  Flores. 
these  people  towards  firearms,  w< 


when  the  river  is  full  of  water, 
the  place  is  in  monthly  com¬ 
munication  by  steamboat  with 
Ciudad  Bolivar.  The  princi¬ 
pal  business  here  is  shipping 
hides  and  feathers. 

February  20th.  This  morn¬ 
ing  shortly  before  six  o’clock 
the  official  interpreter,  a  weak- 
kneed  fellow  of  French  descent, 
called  on  us  to  say  that  the 
“jefe  civil”  or  alcalde  had  re¬ 
ceived  orders  from  the  Gov¬ 
ernor  of  the  district  at  Periquera 
to  send  us  back  to  that  place 
for  examination,  first  taking 
charge  of  all  our  arms  and 
ammunition  and  giving  us  a 
receipt  for  same!  The  fact  of 
our  having  ridden  in  and  out  of 
Periquera  in  such  a  hurry  in  the 
dusk  day  before  yesterday  had 
aroused  his  suspicions,  espe¬ 
cially  as  we  carried  arms.  The 
country  people  had  reported  to 
him  that  we  were  “a  party  of 
six  armed  men  carrying  four 
Winchesters  and  two  Mauser 
rifles,  engaged  in  convoying  a 
cart-load  of  arms  and  ammuni¬ 
tion  to  aid  the  refugee  revolu¬ 
tionists  in  Colombia!”  At  least 
so  the  Governor  said.  Accord¬ 
ingly,  we  were  ordered  to  re¬ 
port  at  Periquera.  Could  we 
have  foreseen  the  attitude  of 
e  might  easily  have  avoided  all 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA  103 

trouble  by  packing  up  our  guns  shortly  before  reaching  the  outskirts 
of  Periquera,  spending  the  night  there  and  presenting  our  letter  of 
introduction  to  the  Governor  in  due  form.  But  we  had  acted  in  a 
strangely  suspicious  manner  and  they  could  not  possibly  imagine 
what  our  heavily  laden  cart  contained  if  not  arms  and  ammunition. 


Our  First  View  of  Colombia. 


About  6.30  a.m.  a  young  man  of  twenty,  carrying  a  sword  and 
wearing  an  old  felt  hat  but  no  shoes,  called  to  pay  his  respects  and 
say  that  the  alcalde  would  like  to  have  us  call  at  seven  o’clock.  I 
called  on  the  alcalde  at  the  appointed  time  and  found  him  occupied 
in  washing  down  his  game-cocks  that  had  been  engaged  in  a  main 
the  night  before.  He  showed  me  his  orders  and  I  replied  by  handing 
him  our  passports  and  the  card  from  the  Venezuelan  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs  requesting  all  Venezuelan  officials  to  put  no  difficulties 
in  our  way.  We  declined  to  go  back  to  Periquera  and  desired  him 
to  allow  us  to  cross  the  river  at  once.  This  he  represented  himself 
as  entirely  unable  to  do,  as  the  Governor  of  the  district,  General 
Vallee,  would  dismiss  him  from  his  position  were  he  to  allow  us 
to  proceed.  Accordingly  we  requested  him  to  send  to  Periquera 


104 


VENEZUELA 


demanding  our  release.  This  he  finally  agreed  to  do  and  a  messenger 
went  off  bearing  a  letter  of  introduction  to  the  Governor  from  our 
friend  Dr.  Gabaldon,  and  also  our  card  from  the  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs  at  Caracas. 

The  cart,  which  arrived  about  half-past  eight,  had  finished  its 

journey;  being  by  all  accounts  the  first 
cart  to  cross  Venezuela.  The  last  two 
or  three  days  have  been  extremely  hard 
for  the  tired  mule.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  guide’s  ox,  which  we  harnessed 
tandem,  it  would  have  taken  us  much 
longer  to  reach  this  place.  As  it  is,  the 
mule  has  a  frightfully  sore  back  and  lies 
down  frequently,  but  Rafael  is  much 
cheered  up  at  having  actually  reached 
the  end  of  his  journey  and  has  hopes 
of  getting  both  mule  and  cart  safely 
back  to  Valencia.  (This  he  eventually 
accomplished.) 

As  the  swamps  to  the  north  and  the 
river  on  the  south  do  not  leave  much 
room  for  the  houses  here,  there  is  no 
place  for  beasts  in  the  yard  of  our  little 
posada,  but  some  enterprising  Syrians 
who  have  a  small  shop  own  a  three-acre 
lot  which  they  have  fenced  with  barbed 
wire,  where  they  allow  beasts  to  be 
pastured  for  twenty  cents  a  day. 

This  afternoon  we  received  a  call 
from  the  aged  French  Creole  whose  son 
is  the  official  interpreter.  He  came  here 
six  years  ago  to  speculate  in  feathers,  buying  egret  feathers  at  $150 
a  pound,  and  taking  them  to  Paris  where  he  sold  them  for  $400. 
Believing  that  he  was  now  on  the  high  road  to  great  wealth,  he  came 
back  the  next  year  with  his  entire  capital  and  all  that  he  could  bor¬ 
row,  invested  it  all  in  feathers,  which  had  meanwhile  risen  to  $225 
a  pound  and  returned  with  them  to  Paris,  only  to  find  that  the  price 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


105 


had  fallen  to  $125,  so  that  instead  of  making  a  profit,  he  lost  $100  per 
pound.  He  came  back  hoping  to  retrieve  his  fortune,  but  is  still 
here  living  in  great  poverty. 

February  21  st.  The  messenger  did  not  return  from  Periquera 
until  this  morning,  when  he  brought  a  letter  ordering  the  alcalde  to 
allow  us  to  cross  the  river  with  all  our  goods  “except  the  four  Win¬ 
chesters  and  the  two  Mausers”  which  are  to  be  sent  to  General 
Vallee  as  a  present.  As  it  would  be  quite  impossible  for  us  to  attempt 
to  cross  the  next  two  hundred  miles  of  country  without  arms  and 


The  Arrival  of  our  Caravan  at  El  Amparo. 


ammunition,  we  spent  the  morning  arguing  with  the  alcalde,  explain¬ 
ing  that  the  Governor  had  been  quite  misinformed  about  our  arms, 
that  we  had  no  “four  Winchesters  and  two  Mausers,”  but  only  such 
arms  as  we  needed  for  hunting,  and  that  we  had  been  delayed  long 
enough  and  proposed  to  cross  the  river.  We  sent  one  of  the  men 
to  buy  the  necessary  canoe  ferry  tickets,  which  he  was  allowed  to 
do.  At  the  same  time  the  entire  armed  force  of  Venezuela  detailed 
for  service  on  this  frontier,  consisting  of  four  soldiers,  was  ordered 
to  take  up  its  station  in  front  of  our  posada  with  Mausers  and  a 


io6 


VENEZUELA 


hundred  rounds  of  ammunition  and  prevent  our  departure.  We 
held  a  council  of  war  and  discussed  the  feasibility  of  swimming 
the  river  at  night,  which  might  have  been  done  had  we  not  had 
so  much  luggage  and  so  many  mules.  However,  Josh  lost  his  nerve 
completely,  although  he  had  hitherto  been  quite  willing  to  aid  us  in 
crossing  “at  any  hour,”  and  begged  Rice  not  to  try  to  cross,  saying 
that  he  was  sure  he  would  get  shot,  and  that  he,  Josh,  had  friends 
at  home! 


The  Frontier  Guard  at  El  Amparo. 


The  alcalde  in  the  meantime  got  very  nervous  and  begged  us  to 
go  back  to  Periquera  and  see  General  Vallee.  He  offered  to  lend 
me  a  good  horse  and  to  accompany  me  himself.  I  had  little  faith  in 
what  I  could  accomplish,  but  finally  consented  to  go  under  protest, 
as  Josh  was  unwilling  to  attempt  to  cross  the  river  at  night. 

We  started  off  at  noon,  accompanied  by  a  son  of  General  Vallee, 
who  acted  as  escort  —  to  see  that  I  did  not  kill  the  alcalde,  I  suppose. 
The  temperature  was  95  degrees  in  the  shade,  but  we  rode  hard  and, 
by  taking  a  short  route  and  forcing  our  way  across  several  bad 
swamps,  reached  Periquera  about  half-past  two.  We  went  at  once 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


107 


to  the  provincial  capitol,  a  new  house,  small  but  neat,  where  the 
venerable  General  Vallee,  with  gray  hair  and  a  long  gray  beard 
and  spectacles,  received  me  very  graciously.  He  is  the  son  of  a 
former  French  consul  at  Ciudad  Bolivar  and  has  always  lived  in  the 
country.  Half  a  dozen  officials 
besides  three  of  his  sons  were 
gathered  with  him  and  I  was 
shown  every  mark  of  courtesy.  I 
knew  I  should  get  into  difficulty 
if  they  began  to  talk  fast,  so  I 
spoke  my  best  Spanish  slowly  and 
very  distinctly  to  encourage  them 
to  do  the  same.  In  order  to  im¬ 
press  the  General  with  the  im¬ 
portance  of  the  expedition  and  the 
friendliness  and  harmlessness  of 
all  concerned,  I  had  him  read  my 
passports  and  various  letters  from 
Secretary  Root  and  others,  inclu¬ 
ding  several  private  letters  of  in¬ 
troduction.  He  was  particularly 
impressed  by  a  letter  from  the 
First  Vice-President  of  the  Ameri- 
can  Historical  Association. 

Finally  I  handed  him  an  enve¬ 
lope  addressed  to  General  Reyes, 

President  of  Colombia,  from  his 
Minister  in  Washington.  Al¬ 
though  marked  “private,”  he 
opened  it  without  a  moment’s 
hesitation,  quite  eagerly  in  fact, 
expecting  that  this  would  reveal 
our  true  status.  He  seemed  a  trifle  disappointed,  but  nevertheless 
duly  impressed  with  its  contents.  Then  he  asked  us  why  we  car¬ 
ried  six  rifles.  I  told  him  we  had  only  hunting  arms.  The  alcalde 
confirmed  this  although  he  had  seen  no  weapons  at  all. 

A  dozen  bottles  of  imported  German  beer  were  then  opened  and 


General  Vallee. 


io8 


VENEZUELA 


we  solemnly  drank  one  another’s  health.  All  seemed  relieved  and 
I  hoped  to  be  allowed  to  depart  in  peace,  but  the  General  expressed 
his  desire  to  accompany  me  back  to  El  Amparo  and,  I  suppose,  see 
for  himself  what  we  had.  We  reached  El  Amparo  shortly  after 
seven  and  were  invited  to  dine  with  a  brother  of  his.  Rice  and  I 
were  quite  ready  to  enjoy  the  novelty  of  a  good  dinner  and  excellent 
claret,  but  the  poor  alcalde,  more  accustomed  to  cock-fighting  than 
long  horseback  journeys,  was  completely  played  out  by  the  thirty- 
six-mile  ride  in  the  hot  sun  and  had  to  decline. 

After  dinner  we  adjourned  to  the  posada,  where  we  showed  the 
General  our  outfits,  including  our  books,  maps,  surgical  and  sur¬ 
veying  instruments,  tents,  etc.  Two  rifles  had  been  hidden  last 
night  in  the  jungle,  the  other  rifle  and  the  guns  had  been  “taken 
down”  and  stowed  away  in  the  clothes  bags,  for  we  feared  that  they 
might  arouse  the  General’s  cupidity,  and  we  were  sure  he  would  not 
care  to  have  the  clothes  bags  opened.  When  it  was  all  over  and  he 
had  apparently  seen  everything,  we  asked  him  if  he  would  like  to 
see  our  guns.  He  looked  puzzled  but  politely  remarked  that  it  was 
not  necessary. 

February  2  2d.  This  morning  we  received  calls  from  all  the  local 
officials.  They  are  evidently  trying  to  apologize  for  their  mistake. 
One  of  them  gave  us  an  old  silver  coin  which  had  been  found  in  an 
Indian  ruin  near  Pedraza;  while  another  gave  us  a  Bolivian  coin. 
All  tried  their  best  to  overcome  the  unpleasant  impression  created  by 
our  detention.  It  was  hard  to  believe  that  these  suave  officials  had 
actually  ordered  the  soldiers  to  fire  on  us  if  we  attempted  to  pass 
the  river  without  leaving  “four  Winchesters  and  two  Mausers” 
behind. 

After  lunch  we  took  our  stuff  down  the  steep  bank  to  the  river 
and  were  ferried  across  by  an  Indian,  the  official  canoeman  of  El 
Amparo.  Rafael  and  his  good-natured  assistant  Waldemera  de¬ 
clined  to  accompany  us  into  Colombia,  and  we  had  to  bid  them 
adieu.  The  five  saddle  mules  were  towed  across  the  river.  Rafael 
assisted  in  the  process  and  was  unexpectedly  obliged  to  land  on 
Colombian  soil  in  order  to  get  the  mules  ashore.  He  was  very 
much  frightened  at  finding  himself  in  a  foreign  land  and  made  all 
possible  haste  to  get  back  to  Venezuela.  We  shall  miss  him  sadly 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA  109 

for  he  has  been  exceedingly  faithful  and  most  efficient.  More  than 
once,  after  doing  his  own  work  he  has  had  to  come  to  the  assistance 
of  the  lazy  inefficient  negroes.  The  difference  between  a  West 
Indian  negro  and  a  Venezuelan  peon  is  not  only  one  of  colour. 

When  we  landed  on  the  Colombian  side  we  received  at  first  a 
very  quiet  welcome.  Not  a  soul  came  near  us  or  our  stuff  which 
was  piled  up  on  the  beach.  At  the  little  hut  where  the  customs 
guards  stay  we  found  a  notice  saying  that  no  arms  or  ammunition 
could  be  landed  or  taken  into  the  country.  It  looked  as  though  in 
one  way  or  another  these  people  were  determined  that  we  should 
enter  the  wilderness  that  lay  ahead  of  us  for  two  hundred  miles 
without  any  means  of  defense  or  of  securing  food. 


El  Amparo  from  the  Colombian  side  of  the  Arauca. 

The  town  of  Arauca  lies  half  a  mile  south  of  the  bank  of  the  river, 
a  large  swamp  intervening.  After  the  mules  had  been  landed  I 
rode  into  the  town  to  find  the  customs  house.  Here,  to  my  surprise, 
I  was  most  cordially  received  by  the  Collector  of  the  Port,  Colonel 
Gamboa,  who  had  just  received  by  the  semi-monthly  overland  mail 
from  Cucuta  a  telegram  from  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  dated 
Bogota,  February  5th,  instructing  him  to  allow  our  outfit  to  pass 
freely  through  the  customs  without  examination,  and  to  offer  us 


I  IO 


VENEZUELA 


every  facility  for  our  journey,  requiring  only  a  list  of  our  possessions 
for  the  information  of  the  Government.  It  was  a  relief  to  have  this 
telegram  arrive  so  providentially  on  the  very  day  we  needed  it.  The 
orders  worked  wonders. 

Colonel  Gamboa  was  most  attentive,  rented  a  house  for  us  on  the 
corner  of  the  Plaza,  quite  the  best  location  in  town,  for  sixty  cents, 
and  sent  some  furniture  from  his  offices  for  our  use.  The  house  was 
cool  and  commodious,  with  a  nice  yard,  a  good  well,  and  a  pump 
made  in  New  York  City. 


Our  House  on  the  Plaza  at  Arauca. 


February  2 3d.  Last  evening  we  received  a  number  of  callers, 
including  the  local  dignitaries  and  a  visiting  dentist  from  Ciudad 
Bolivar,  who  said  that  he  had  been  educated  in  New  York.  When 
asked  if  he  had  travelled  any  in  the  United  States  he  replied:  “Oh 
yes,  I  went  to  Brooklyn  once!”  Later  in  the  evening  we  were  all 
invited  down  to  the  favourite  drinking  shop  of  the  town,  where  we 
had  to  drink  warm  Bremen  beer  while  being  entertained  by  the 
music  of  a  flute  and  a  curiously  strung  guitar,  played  by  two  local 
musicians.  Four  or  five  doctors  of  law  and  medicine  were  present 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


in 


and  we  discussed  history,  philosophy,  and  geography  until  late  in  the 
evening.  Altogether  it  was  quite  a  celebration. 

It  has  been  very  warm  to-day,  the  thermometer  reaching  940  F. 
at  two  o’clock  and  not  going  below  90°  F.  until  half-past  four. 

It  appears  to  be  almost  impossible  to  secure  any  pack  mules  here, 
as  all  the  carrying  is  done  by  oxen.  A  man  who  owns  six  pack 
oxen  came  to  see  us  this  afternoon  and  is  willing  to  carry  our  stuff 
to  Tame,  a  distance  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  by  the 
usual  trail,  for  the  sum  of  one  hundred  dollars.  When  told  that 
his  price  was  too  high  he  went  off  most  unconcernedly  and  seemed 
relieved  that  he  would  not  be  obliged  to  perform  such  a  disagreeable 
journey.  As  he  is  said  to  be  the  only  local  contractor  we  determined 
to  purchase  enough  oxen  to  carry  our  stuff  as  far  as  they  can  go. 

An  Indian  guide  also  was  brought  to  us  who  offered  to  show  us 
the  road  to  Tame  for  forty  dollars.  We  declined  his  services  with 
thanks.  Later  in  the  afternoon  we  received  a  call  from  General 
Perez,  who  has  recently  bought  “Limbo,”  a  large  ranch  near  Tame. 
He  offers  to  provide  us  with  a  “very  good”  guide.  We  are  told  that 
the  usual  way  to  go  to  Tame  is  by  way  of  Cravo.  Although  much 
longer  than  the  route  used  by  Bolivar’s  army,  it  avoids  the  country 
of  the  savage  “  Yaruros”  Indians  who  live  on  the  upper  Rio  Ele  and 
the  Lipa.  General  Perez  says  his  man  Juan  knows  the  route  used 
by  Bolivar  and  Santander,  which  we  desire  to  take. 

February  25 th.  The  guide,  a  strong-looking  Indian  called  Juan 
de  Dios,  came  this  morning  and  offered  to  go  “by  whatever  route  we 
please  for  whatever  we  choose  to  give  him  at  the  end  of  the  journey.” 
He  seems  like  a  lithe,  able-bodied  man  and  was  promptly  engaged 
to  pilot  us  through  the  country  of  the  “Indies  bravos.”  He  wanted 
a  little  money  in  advance  in  order  to  purchase  a  few  “necessary 
articles,”  and  in  the  evening  turned  up  very  drunk,  as  was  to  be 
expected.  He  uses  the  nicotine  paste  which  I  first  saw  at  Acarigua. 

Two  oxen  were  brought  this  morning  and  offered  for  sale  for 
twenty  dollars  and  twenty-four  dollars  respectively.  We  took  them 
on  trial  and  had  them  tied  by  their  noses  in  the  back  yard.  In  the 
afternoon  two  more  were  brought.  We  had  them  also  put  away 
pending  the  morrow. 

The  temperature  today  was  slightly  hotter  than  yesterday,  the 


1 1  2 


VENEZUELA 


thermometer  going  as  high  as  950  F.  at  one  o’clock  and  falling  again 
to  750  at  night. 

February  26 th.  Last  night  one  of  the  larger  oxen  got  loose  and 
proceeded  to  gore  the  others.  We  had  quite  an  exciting  ox  hunt  in 
the  moonlight  until  the  wild  one  was  captured.  We  bought  three 
of  the  oxen  this  morning,  The  pack  saddles  used  on  the  oxen  are 
primitive  affairs,  a  rectangular  piece  of  rawhide  bound  by  means  of 
thongs  to  a  large  pad  made  of  dry  banana  leaves.  It  may  easily  be 
imagined  that  such  a  saddle  is  somewhat  difficult  to  secure  to  the 
rounded  back  of  a  large  ox. 

The  big  white  ox  took  his  load  well.  The  red  ox  was  packed 
and  finally  the  small  white  ox,  but  the  latter  immediately  proceeded 
to  buck  his  load  all  to  pieces,  smashing  a  thermometer  and  a  hick¬ 
ory  ax  helve.  While  he  was  being  reloaded,  the  red  ox  got  restless 
and  proceeded  to  buck  off  his  load.  Then  followed  two  hours  of 
excitement  and  hard  labour  on  the  part  of  everybody,  including  several 
of  the  customs  house  officials.  No  end  of  advice  was  offered  by  the 
Prefect  and  his  friends,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  The  white  ox  would 
not  allow  himself  to  be  loaded  at  all  and  the  red  ox  threw  off  his 
load  ten  times.  We  finally  decided  that  these  oxen  did  not  suit  our 
purpose  and  gave  up  trying  to  start  today.  It  is  evidently  a  long 
time  since  Arauca  has  had  so  much  excitement.  We  are  praying  for 
some  tame  oxen  that  are  willing  to  work.  The  people  here  are  too 
lazy  to  train  their  oxen.  Ordinary  cattle  sell  for  five  dollars  a  head, 
while  oxen  are  worth  from  twenty  dollars  up. 

Prices  in  Arauca  are  high.  All  imported  articles  are  obliged  to 
pay  two  duties.  The  Venezuelan  Government  collects  its  duties  on 
all  goods  that  pass  Ciudad  Bolivar  on  the  Orinoco,  and  the  Colom¬ 
bian  Government  collects  its  duties  when  the  goods  enter  the  port 
of  Arauca.  German  beer  is  sixty  cents  a  bottle,  Bordeaux  fifty 
cents  a  pint,  old  Chocolate  Menier  (with  worms  in  it)  was  offered  at 
one  dollar  and  twenty  cents  a  pound,  but  finally  the  store-keeper  sold 
the  only  pound  he  had  for  sixty  cents.  Rope  costs  forty  cents  a  pound 
and  candles  the  same. 

One  sees  almost  no  Colombian  paper  money  here  and  very  little 
Colombian  silver.  The  common  coin  is  Venezuelan  silver,  which  is 
accepted  at  its  face  value.  Prices  here  are  quoted  indiscriminately 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


IT3 

in  “gold”  “silver”  “Venezuelan,”  “Colombian”  and  “billetes.” 
“Gold”  and  “Venezuelan”  are  synonymous,  while  “silver”  is  at  a 
“  discount  ”  in  the  local  parlance  of  250  per  cent  and  “Colombian” 
or  “billetes”  at  a  “discount”  of  10,000  per  cent.  In  other  words, 
a  saddle  mule  costs  one  hundred  dollars  in  “Venezuelan”  or  “gold”; 
two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  “silver”  or  ten  thousand  dollars  in 
“billetes”  or  “Colombian.”  It  is  a  fine  thing  to  have  a  mule 
“worth  ten  thousand  dollars”! 

It  is  extremely  difficult  to  get  accurate  information  about  the 
country  even  from  the  more  intelligent  classes.  Their  knowledge  is 
very  limited.  They  know  how  long  it  takes  to  get  to  the  next  town; 
sometimes  they  know  the  usual  names  of  the  common  birds  and 
animals,  although  it  is  more  than  likely  that  the  name  they  give  you 
is  a  purely  local  one.  They  almost  never  know  whether  an  animal 
is  edible,  but  only  whether  they  have  ever  eaten  any  of  its  kind  them¬ 
selves.  They  differ  among  themselves  as  to  whether  iguanas  and 
such  things  are  ever  eaten  by  anyone.  They  seem  to  be  quite  con¬ 
tent  with  a  very  limited  bill  of  fare. 

One  has  to  be  extremely  careful  to  verify  their  statements,  as 
they  are  quite  likely  to  contradict  themselves  without  the  slightest 
hesitation.  It  makes  one  extremely  shy  of  believing  what  one  is 
told.  And  yet  much  of  the  literature  in  regard  to  Venezuela  and 
Colombia  seems  to  be  based  on  just  such  hearsay  evidence.  The 
great  fact  that  does  impress  one  is  the  general  shiftlessness  and  care¬ 
lessness  of  the  common  people.  They  seem  to  be  contented  with 
less  than  any  civilized  people  that  I  have  ever  seen.  Their  food  is 
wretched  and  infrequent,  their  houses  are  extremely  dirty,  they  are 
constantly  tormented  by  noxious  insects,  everything  that  they  can 
buy  is  expensive,  there  is  little  evidence  of  a  beneficent  Government, 
titles  to  property  seem  to  be  insecure  and  yet  with  it  all  they  rarely 
complain.  They  seem  to  be  without  ambition.  Those  in  authority 
are  as  a  rule  rather  haughty  and  proud,  ill-mannered  and  disagreeable. 
Their  good  manners  do  not  appear  to  be  very  deep-seated  for  they 
easily  forget  them.  This  was  particularly  noticeable  in  such  a  place 
as  San  Carlos,  the  capital  of  the  state  of  Zamora. 

The  doctors  of  law  and  medicine,  who  have  tasted  the  sweets  of 
Caracas,  are  as  a  rule  poor  and  out  of  a  job.  They  are  always  polite, 


H4 


VENEZUELA 


but  appear  to  be  lazy  and  incompetent.  Their  clothes,  bad  imitations 
of  European  models,  are  not  picturesque.  The  cattle  owners  are  a 
relatively  small  class  and  appear  to  have  no  ruling  characteristics. 
Some  are  generous,  others  are  stingy.  Some  travel  well  dressed,  while 


Border  Villagers. 


others,  just  as  rich,  go  barefooted  and  eat  with  their  fingers.  Some 
are  fond  of  travel  and  go  frequently  to  Caracas  or  Valencia,  while 
others  appear  contented  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  anything  but  the 
Llanos  and  the  ranches.  The  one  characteristic  that  they  seem  to 
have  in  common  is  their  ability  to  keep  busy  and  to  keep  others  busy. 


FROM  THE  APURE  RIVER  TO  ARAUCA 


115 

The  Llanero,  or  cowboy,  is  rather  wild,  restless,  and  shiftless,  not 
caring  to  work  except  on  horseback.  The  peons  seem  to  be  much 
more  valuable  citizens.  But  it  is  very  difficult  to  draw  any  distinct 
lines  and  there  seem  to  be  few  definite  types. 

The  women  of  the  country  are  generally  out  of  sight  in  the  kitchen. 
They  work  slowly  over  little  fires  built  between  small  stones  on  which 
rest  the  pots  and  pans.  It  takes  them  from  three  to  four  hours  to 
get  a  primitive  meal  cooked.  They  are  frequently  dirty  and  ill- 
kempt  and  rarely  show  themselves.  This,  of  course,  does  not  apply 
to  the  town  ladies,  but  only  to  the  lower  classes  that  one  sees  on  the 
plains.  The  children  are  naked  or  scantily  clad  and  most  of  them 
have  enlarged  spleens  and  other  malarial  symptoms.  We  have  seen 
schools  in  nearly  all  the  cities  and  towns  through  which  we  passed, 
but  there  do  not  appear  to  be  any  in  the  country. 

Venezuela  gives  one  an  impression  of  rest,  as  though,  wearied  of 
the  past,  it  was  “waiting  for  something  to  turn  up.”  Most  of  the 
intelligent  men  have  told  me  that  the  country’s  greatest  needs  are 
immigration  and  capital,  but  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  either  will  come 
until  property  is  more  secure  and  the  courts  are  above  suspicion. 


CHAPTER  VI 


Arauca  to  Limbo 

February  27 th.  This  morning,  with  the  aid  of  the  customs  house 
scales,  we  weighed  our  loads  carefully  so  that  they  would  balance 
exactly  and  not  be  so  likely  to  fall  off.  We  discovered  that  we  had 
tried  to  overload  the  oxen,  which  was  the  cause  of  most  of  our 
trouble,  as  an  ox  is  not  supposed  to  carry  more  than  two  hundred  and 
twenty-five  pounds  and  we  had  attempted  to  load  them  with  about 
three  hundred  pounds  each.  More  oxen  were  brought  for  our  in¬ 
spection  and  we  finally  bought  a  line  large  white  ox  for  thirty-two 
dollars. 

It  has  been  my  custom  to  carry  five  or  six  gold  ounces  tied  up  in  a 
stocking  in  my  coat  pocket,  while  the  rest  of  our  working  capital  was 
concealed  in  different  parts  of  the  luggage.  When  I  opened  my 
stocking  this  morning  to  pay  a  bill,  I  got  the  impression  that  there 
were  not  quite  as  many  gold  pieces  in  it  as  the  last  time  I  had  handled 
it,  and  at  the  same  moment  saw  Juan,  our  guide,  peering  through 
the  door  with  a  look  on  his  face  as  though  he  wondered  if  I  was  going 
to  miss  anything  or  not.  This  put  me  on  my  guard,  and  I  deter¬ 
mined  to  balance  accounts  and  see  how  much  had  been  taken.  A 
thorough  examination  of  our  hoard  and  a  little  bookkeeping  demon¬ 
strated  the  fact  that  we  had  lost  thirty-two  dollars  and  eighty  cents,  or 
two  gold  ounces,  in  the  course  of  the  night.  We  at  once  took  the  mat¬ 
ter  up  with  the  Prefect,  a  most  obliging  official.  After  the  usual  polite 
remarks,  he  took  me  aside  and  with  some  apologies  said  that  he 
supposed  he  ought  to  have  told  me  before  that  our  guide  was  “a 
noted  robber  and  was  in  fact  facing  a  six  months’  term  of  imprison¬ 
ment,  as  he  had  recently  been  caught  stealing  cattle.”  This  was  the 
reason  Juan  was  so  willing  to  go  with  us  for  “whatever  we  chose  to 
pay  him.”  He  naturally  preferred  any  kind  of  service  in  the  open 
field  to  six  months  in  jail.  His  patron,  General  Perez,  was  aware  of 

116 


ARAUCA  TO  LIMBO 


1 17 


this,  and  it  was  owing  to  his  efforts  that  Juan  was  allowed  to  have  his 
jail  term  postponed.  As  there  was  no  question  about  his  being  an 
excellent  guide,  and  no  one  else  was  either  able  or  willing  to  go  the 
way  we  had  chosen,  it  was  not  thought  necessary  to  tell  us  that  he 
was  also  a  most  experienced  thief.  We  finally  agreed  that  it  was  best 
to  wait  until  we  reached  the  other  end  of  our  journey,  and  in  the 
meantime  to  be  extremely  careful  of  all  our  possessions.  It  will  be 
interesting  to  see  what  he  will  try  to  steal. 

The  men  from  whom  we  had  bought  our  four  oxen  agreed  to 
help  us  pack  and  lead  the  oxen  well  out  of  town,  so  that  we  finally  got 
off  about  half-past  four  this  afternoon.  We  had  a  fine  moon  and 
travelled  slowly  until  11  p.  M.  when  we  reached  a  hospitable  ranch 
where  we  put  up  for  the  night.  The  moonlight  was  so  bright  that  we 
could  read  and  write  without  difficulty.  We  saw  several  prairie 
fires  resembling  those  seen  in  Venezuela. 

It  seems  very  strange  to  see  oxen  carrying  heavy  loads,  but  they 
do  not  appear  to  mind  their  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds, 
in  fact  one  of  them  is  carrying  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  and 
they  march  along  at  a  steady  gait  of  two  miles  an  hour. 

February  2 8th.  Last  night  we  saw  lightning  to  the  southwest. 
The  daily  breeze  came  up  earlier  than  usual  this  morning,  and  was 
blowing  very  freshly  by  eight  o’clock.  The  plains  are  sparsely 
dotted  with  groves.  There  do  not  appear  to  be  any  definite  lines 
of  trees  indicating  watercourses.  Stock  animals  are  much  more 
plentiful  here  than  in  Venezuela.  Today  we  saw  more  mares  and 
colts  than  on  our  entire  march  from  Valencia  to  Arauca.  The 
savannas  seem  to  swarm  with  cattle  on  this  side  of  the  border.  One 
cannot  help  wondering  whether  the  state  of  the  Government  has  not 
something  to  do  with  it. 

This  noon  we  came  to  a  small  river  meandering  through  the  plain 
whose  presence  was  not  indicated  in  any  way  by  shrubbery  or  trees; 
a  most  unusual  occurrence  and  one  that  we  have  not  seen  before. 
It  appears  to  have  cut  its  channel  in  the  plain  so  far  below  high- 
water  mark  that  it  never  overflows  its  banks  and  consequently  does 
no  irrigation.  Here  we  saw  a  herd  of  capybaras,  or  chiguires,  as 
they  are  called  here.  They  are  sometimes  spoken  of  as  giant  rabbits, 
as  they  belong  to  that  family  although  they  are  as  large  as  sheep. 


n8 


COLOMBIA 


There  were  fifty  or  sixty  of  them  together  on  the  banks  of  this  stream. 
They  seemed  to  be  quite  tame. 

About  twelve  o’clock  we  saw  a  very  distinct  mirage  to  the  south. 
The  temperature  was  930  F.  in  the  shade.  During  the  afternoon 
we  saw  a  number  of  showers  to  the  southwest  and  felt  a  few  drops 
of  rain,  but  did  not  get  wet  until  just  before  reaching  Guaratarito 
ranch,  when  it  began  to  pour  and  we  had  a  hard  thunder-shower. 
This  is  the  first  rain  of  the  season  here  and  the  first  we  have  had  in 
nearly  two  months. 


Cano  Guaratarito. 


The  venados  that  we  passed  this  afternoon  were  very  wild  and 
ran  away  before  coming  within  shooting  distance.  Apparently  these 
deer  are  hunted  much  more  than  their  brethren  in  Venezuela.  Since 
leaving  Barinas  we  have  been  able,  while  on  the  road,  to  shoot  a  deer 
nearly  every  day. 

March  1st.  Last  night  our  best  two  oxen  broke  loose  and  dis¬ 
appeared.  The  guide  went  after  them  this  morning.  We  suspect 
that  he  tied  them  carelessly  on  purpose,  as  he  has  no  desire  to  go 
through  the  wilderness  with  us,  his  sole  idea  being  to  escape  from 
the  Arauca  jail. 

A  small,  fairly  deep  river,  the  Cano  Guaratarito,  meanders  through 


ARAUCA  TO  LIMBO 


1 19 

the  plain  near  the  ranch  without  giving  much  sign  of  its  presence. 
The  current  is  slow  but  carries  considerable  sediment.  It  looks  like 
the  streams  we  crossed  yesterday  but  not  like  any  seen  in  Venezuela. 
It  is  inhabited  by  a  large  number  of  capybaras  and  alligators. 

This  morning  shortly  after  seven  o’clock  the  cowboys  and  the 
owner  of  Guaratarito  began  to  show 
signs  of  excitement,  running  hither 
and  thither  and  rapidly  saddling  their 
horses;  in  the  meantime  casting  anxious 
glances  to  the  southward.  At  first  I 
could  see  nothing,  but  with  the  glasses 
made  out  a  small  party  of  savages 
apparently  very  slightly  clothed  and 
bearing  spears,  bows  and  arrows. 

They  came  as  far  as  the  bank  of  the 
river,  about  two  hundred  yards  from 
the  house,  where  they  waited  until  the 
owner  of  the  ranch  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  out  to  meet  them,  accom¬ 
panied  by  two  of  his  men  on  horseback. 

Rice  and  I  grabbed  our  cameras  and 
ran  out  on  foot,  much  against  the 
wishes  of  Josh  and  Richard,  who  were 
sure  we  were  about  to  be  eaten  alive. 

The  master  of  the  house  shook  hands 
with  the  chief  of  the  party  and  patted 
him  on  the  shoulder.  The  Yaruro  did 
not  seem  to  understand  much  Spanish, 
but  they  conversed  by  means  of  signs. 

There  were  four  men,  three  women 
and  a  baby,  and  they  had  hammocks 
and  twine  which  they  desired  to  exchange  for  large  dogs.  I  shook 
hands  with  the  men  but  they  did  not  look  me  in  the  face  and  turned 
away  quickly.  The  chief  had  a  pleasant  expression  and  appeared 
to  be  friendly,  but  even  he  hardly  ventured  to  raise  his  eyes  from  the 
ground.  After  some  encouragement  the  Yaruros  all  came  up  near 
the  ranch  and  allowed  us  to  take  their  pictures.  The  youngest  of 


Yaruro  Chief. 


120 


COLOMBIA 


the  men  soon  became  cross  with  us  and  started  off  alone.  The  woman 
with  the  baby  was  cheerful  and  fearless,  although  she  covered  the 
child’s  face  with  her  hands  when  it  cried.  The  other  two  women 
were  vixens.  As  we  were  coming  up  from  the  stream  to  the  ranch, 
Rice  and  I  walked  a  little  ahead,  as  the  Indians  seemed  timid  and 
unwilling  to  proceed.  Getting  an  impression  that  all  was  not  well  I 

turned  around 
quickly  and  caught 
one  of  the  women  in 
the  act  of  throwing 
a  double  handful  of 
fresh  cow-dung  at 
us.  She  dropped  it 
over  her  shoulder, 
as  I  looked  at  her, 
and  appeared  to 
think  it  a  great 
joke.  Had  she 
thrown  it  we  would 
have  been  placed 
in  an  awkward  di¬ 
lemma.  To  allow 
such  an  incident  to 
pass  unnoticed 
would  betoken 
cowardice  and  en¬ 
courage  the  Indians 
to  attack  us  some 
night  in  the  wilder¬ 
ness,  while  on  the 
A  Yaruro  family.  other  hand  to  have 

chastised  her  on 

the  spot  might  have  led  to  a  brawl  and  a  few  broken  heads.  It  was 
fortunate  that  I  looked  around  when  I  did.  Had  I  received  the  pre¬ 
monition  a  second  later  I  should  have  looked  just  in  time  to  receive 
the  mess  full  in  the  face. 

The  sight  of  steel  -shod  arrows,  short  spears  and  long  bows  carried 


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I  2 1 


by  Indians  clad  only  in  breech  cloths  made  us  realize  what  kind  of 
life  lies  between  us  and  the  next  ranch,  which  is  about  one  hundred 
miles  away. 

After  purchasing  three  dogs,  the  Indians  went  off,  four  of  them 
going  back  with  their  purchases,  while  the  others  went  on  in  the 
direction  of  the  next  ranch.  The  dogs  went  quite  peaceably  at  first, 
but  when  they  found  they  were  being  actually  carried  away  from 
home  they  put  up  quite  a  fight.  It  was  astonishing  to  see  how  little 
the  Indians  appeared  to  mind  the  scratches  that  they  received  from 


Yaruros  Trading  at  Guaratarito. 


the  struggling  dogs.  The  animals  were  mongrels,  larger  than  setters 
but  smaller  than  mastiffs.  Most  of  the  dogs  we  have  seen  since  we 
left  Carabobo,  where  we  bade  adieu  to  Don  Carlos  and  his  pack  of 
hounds,  have  been  very  much  smaller  than  these.  None  have  had 
the  appearance  of  belonging  to  any  one  breed  or  of  being  thorough¬ 
breds. 

This  morning  I  spent  a  long  time  in  the  bushes  where  the  capy- 
baras  doze  in  the  daytime.  They  are  quite  tame  and  I  frequently 
got  within  eight  or  ten  feet  of  one  before  it  would  give  a  snort  and 


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COLOMBIA 


run  off.  At  a  distance  they  look  like  small  bears,  having  high  hind 
quarters  and  a  rolling  gait,  but  near  by  they  are  more  like  enormous 
gophers  or  prairie  dogs.  The  head  is  ugly  and  the  snout  square. 
They  feed  at  night  on  grass  and  small  herbage.  In  the  daytime 
they  appear  to  chew  their  cud,  but  as  they  do  not  belong  to  the  cow 
family,  it  must  be  that  they  store  away  the  hastily  eaten  grass  in  their 
cheek  pouches.  After  sundown  some  of  them  came  within  fifty  feet 


Capybaras  at  Cano  Guaratarito. 


of  the  ranch  houses.  Their  hair  is  longer  than  that  of  a  hog  and  more 
reddish,  but  they  are  sufficiently  like  swine  so  that  sometimes  they  are 
spoken  of  as  “water  hogs.”  Their  feet  are  webbed  and  they  swim 
well.  They  frequently  take  running  dives  and  swim  under  water  for 
fifty  or  sixty  feet  with  apparent  ease.  The  alligators  do  not  seem  to 
trouble  them  and  I  have  seen  the  two  sleeping  near  each  other.  This 
little  river  fairly  swarms  with  alligators.  They  are  so  tame  that  it  is 
difficult  to  frighten  them  even  by  throwing  sticks  and  stones  at  them. 


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123 


March  2d.  Guaratarito  is  a  bad  place  in  which  to  be  detained. 
Food  is  very  scarce.  For  breakfast  we  are  given  a  thimbleful  of 
coffee  at  6  a.  m.  For  lunch,  which  is  “served”  about  half-past  nine, 
we  have  the  toughest  boiled  beef  that  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  sample 
and  a  small  allowance  of  fried  green  plantains.  When  we  are  nearly 
famished,  dinner  is  announced  at  about  5.30.  This  bountiful  meal 
consists  of  more  green  plantains  and  fried  gristle.  Truly,  the  worst 
fare  we  have  met  with  yet.  Were  it  possible  to  purchase  anything 
before  entering  the  wilderness,  we  would  draw  on  our  own  rations, 
but  as  there  is  no  telling  how  long  it  will  take  us  to  get  across  the 
swamps,  marshes,  and  rivers  of  the  Indian  country,  we  hesitate  to 
open  our  own  supplies. 

The  people  of  the  ranch  are  lazy  but  very  peaceable  and  have 
surrounded  themselves  with  a  number  of  tame  animals.  A  pretty 
buck  with  six  prongs  to  his  horns  has  the  run  of  the  place.  A  pink 
spoonbill  hops  about  and  watches  me  as  I  write.  His  favourite 
point  of  vantage  is  on  a  pile  of  mud  near  by,  where  he  stands  for 
hours  on  one  leg  engaged  in  deep  meditation.  A  small  egret  makes 
himself  at  home  on  a  pile  of  hides  that  are  stacked  up  in  one  end  of 
the  open  hut  where  we  spend  the  hot  hours  of  the  day.  The  dogs 
sleep  there  at  night  and  a  few  chickens  share  the  roost  in  the  day¬ 
time  with  the  egret.  In  the  old  thatch  overhead  live  scores  of  bats 
who  come  forth  in  the  evening  to  make  night  hideous.  We  prefer  to 
sleep  under  the  stars. 

Every  morning  a  small  boy  arrives  on  a  donkey  bringing  a  bunch 
of  green  plantains,  sugar-cane  and  other  food  from  a  neighbouring 
ranch.  Most  of  this  is  consumed  in  secret  by  the  owner  of  this  ranch, 
who,  unlike  any  other  ranchman  we  have  met,  eats  alone  and  does 
not  allow  his  cowboys  or  guests  to  share  his  food.  Yesterday  he 
killed  a  calf  and  an  hour  later  we  had  our  only  good  meal  so  far. 
It  consisted  of  fresh  roast  veal  and  cassava,  the  latter  brought  out  of 
his  private  store.  We  each  ate  six  ribs  of  the  delicious  hot  veal,  as 
we  knew  we  should  have  nothing  more  that  day  and  very  little  the 
next. 

The  pile  of  half-cured  hides  gives  forth  impossible  odours  at  inter¬ 
vals,  and  from  the  rafters  hang  strips  of  jerked  beef  in  various  stages 
of  ripeness.  The  presence  of  so  many  tame  animals,  if  one  may 


124 


COLOMBIA 


include  the  pets  in  that  category,  is  not  conducive  to  comfort.  The 
egret  just  now  is  rapping  the  hides  with  his  foot  to  encourage  the 
worms  and  beetles  to  come  out  and  furnish  him  with  a  meal.  A 
traveller  stopped  at  the  ranch  for  a  short  time  today  and  offered  to 
buy  the  egret,  but  its  owner,  the  mistress  of  the  house,  not  desiring 
to  sell,  asked  two  gold  ounces,  and  the  egret  continues  to  search  the 
hides  for  insects.  In  the  evening  the  roseate  spoonbill  makes 
ridiculous,  futile  efforts  to  fly  up  into  a  small  tree  where  he  prefers 
to  sleep.  His  wings  have  been  clipped  slightly  so  that  he  has  to  give 
up  his  attempts  at  flying  and,  after  twenty  or  thirty  vain  efforts, 
resign  himself  to  the  disgrace  of  being  obliged  to  walk  up  the  inclined 
trunk  of  the  tree,  which  he  might  much  more  easily  have  done  in  the 
first  place. 

Juan  was  away  all  day  yesterday  looking  for  the  oxen,  but  failed 
to  find  them.  He  went  off  again  early  this  morning  accompanied  by 
Josh.  It  begins  to  look  as  though  he  and  a  confederate  had  relieved 
us  of  our  best  oxen.  This  is  the  outpost  of  civilization,  the  last  house 
before  we  enter  the  territory  of  the  “Indios  bravos”;  a  bad  place  in 
which  to  lose  one’s  pack  animals.  We  asked  the  owner  of  the  ranch 
this  morning  what  he  would  advise  us  to  do  and  were  amused  by  his 
reply  that  he  had  given  the  matter  serious  consideration,  and  was 
inclined  to  advise  us  to  leave  half  of  our  outfit  here  and  go  on  with 
what  we  were  able  to  carry.  This  looks  as  if  he  might  have  had  a 
hand  in  losing  our  cattle. 

Last  evening  a  famished  looking  individual  who  says  his  name  is 
Angel  and  that  he  is  a  runaway  soldier  from  Venezuela  arrived  here 
on  foot.  He  is  a  baker  by  trade,  was  impressed  into  the  army  in 
some  seaboard  town,  and  detailed  for  service  in  Periquera.  He 
found  the  service  irksome  and  the  food  very  bad,  became  insubordi¬ 
nate  and  was  put  in  the  guard-house  a  few  days  before  we  arrived. 
Hearing  of  our  expedition  he  decided  it  was  his  best  chance  to  escape. 
As  it  is  usually  comparatively  easy  to  catch  deserters  in  this  country, 
where  food  is  so  hard  to  obtain,  he  found  no  difficulty  in  escaping 
from  the  guard-house.  He  made  a  long  detour  to  avoid  El  Amparo, 
swam  across  the  Arauca  River  and  did  his  best  to  get  on  our  trail. 
He  begs  us  to  take  him  along  with  us  and  offers  to  work  his  passage 
if  we  will  give  him  food  and  protection  from  the  Indians.  He  looks 


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125 


like  a  rascal,  but  it  will  probably  do  us  no  harm  to  have  an  extra 
man  while  going  through  the  wilderness. 

We  are  addressed  here  by  the  title  of  “  Moosieu,”  which  we  heard 
for  the  first  time  in  Palmarito.  It  is  said  to  be  common  in  Venezuela, 
but  we  were  not  favoured  with  it.  We  have  not  once  heard  the  term 
“gringo.” 

March  3d.  Last  evening  Josh  and  Juan  arrived  with  one  of  the 
lost  oxen  and  news  that  the  other  is  near  Arauca.  They  have  gone 
after  it  today. 

We  got  so  hungry  this  morning  that  I  shot  a  capybara.  Angel, 
the  Venezuelan  deserter,  agreed  to  dress  it  and  cook  it,  but  this 
shamed  our  host  into  killing  another  calf  and  having  it  roasted. 
The  chiguire  was  not  cooked.  Our  host  told  us  when  we  arrived 
that  he  had  sold  the  ranch  and  was  going  to  Arauca  at  once,  but 
apparently  this  was  simply  an  excuse  to  avoid  the  responsibility  of 
entertaining  us.  He  continues  to  give  orders  in  a  manner  which 
shows  that  he  still  owns  the  premises.  Last  night  one  of  our  best 
halters  and  a  long  rope  were  stolen  off  one  of  the  mules.  We  could 
find  no  trace  of  either  today.  It  helps  us  to  realize  what  kind  of 
people  we  are  among.  We  are  beginning  to  wonder  how  long  our 
pleasant  sojourn  in  Guaratarito  is  going  to  last. 

Two  or  three  travellers  arrived  here  this  afternoon,  one  of  them 
a  lady  riding  a  side  saddle.  A  Venezuelan  arrived  on  a  very  large 
ox  with  his  peon  on  a  diminutive  donkey.  They  are  on  their  way 
from  Cravo  to  Arauca.  We  were  reminded  that  it  was  Sunday  by 
the  fact  that  the  cook  went  about  with  her  hair  down  her  back,  as  a 
mark  of  respect  to  the  Sabbath.  It  seems  to  be  the  custom  of  the 
country.  The  hair  is  not  braided  but  merely  tied  with  a  string  near 
the  head. 

Water  for  cooking  and  drinking  is  drawn  daily  from  the  stream 
near  the  house.  It  is  not  very  palatable  as  there  are  on  the  banks  a 
number  of  corpses  of  cattle  and  horses  that  did  not  survive  the  dry 
season.  This  afternoon  I  ventured  to  take  a  bath  on  the  edge  of 
the  stream  and  aroused  the  curiosity  of  the  alligators.  They  fairly 
swarmed  about  me,  keeping  a  respectful  distance,  none  of  them 
coming  nearer  than  eight  feet.  When  I  finished  I  counted  eighteen 
within  a  radius  of  twenty-five  feet.  It  was  difficult  to  tell  whether 


126 


COLOMBIA 


they  were  waiting  for  me  to  fall  into  the  water  or  merely  curious  to 
see  what  I  was  doing.  The  chiguires  were  not  so  curious.  They 
have  no  fear  of  human  beings,  but  the  ranch  dogs  cause  them  to 
stampede  at  once.  We  noted  several  thunder-showers  today  to  the 
southwest  and  northeast,  but  had  no  rain  here. 

March  4th.  Last  night  we  were  on  the  alert  to  prevent  anything 
else  being  stolen.  Hearing  strange  noises  near  the  animals  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  we  got  up  and  made  the  rounds  of  the  mules  and 
oxen.  We  found  nobody,  but  probably  kept  more  ropes  and  animals 
from  being  taken.  This  morning  two  of  the  cowboys  left  for  Arauca 
and  had  to  content  themselves  with  their  proper  business  of  taking 
animals  to  market.  They  took  four  horses,  driving  them  in  a  curi¬ 
ous  manner.  One  cowboy  led  the  way,  his  horse’s  tail  securely 
fastened  by  a  lasso  to  the  neck  of  a  wild  steed,  the  latter’s  tail  at¬ 
tached  to  the  neck  of  a  second,  and  so  on  until  all  four  were  joined 
in  that  ridiculous  fashion.  The  other  cowboy  rode  in  the  rear  to 
keep  the  procession  moving  and  prevent  the  tails  from  being  entirely 
pulled  out.  It  is  a  wonder  the  horses  of  the  country  have  any 
posterior  appendages  left. 

Our  mules  were  shod  last  in  Valencia.  We  had  planned  to  have 
them  reshod  in  Arauca,  where  there  are  two  blacksmiths.  But 
neither  of  these  had  any  shoes  or  had  ever  shod  an  animal,  as 
it  is  not  customary  to  do  so  in  the  Llanos,  where  there  are  no 
stones. 

This  afternoon  Josh  and  Juan  arrived  with  the  lost  ox,  which  they 
found  last  evening  a  mile  from  Arauca.  We  shall  sleep  with  one 
eye  open  to-night  and  hope  to  leave  early  tomorrow  morning. 

March  5 th.  We  left  our  kind  host  of  Guaratarito  at  half -past 
seven  this  morning  and  thanked  him  for  his  generous  hospitality. 
He  lacked  the  grace  to  congratulate  us  on  having  recovered  our 
oxen  and  looked  at  the  departing  caravan  with  an  envious  eye. 

We  had  told  Josh  before  we  left  Arauca  to  provide  food  enough 
for  two  weeks,  and  at  his  suggestion  bought  forty  cakes  of  are  pa  at 
that  place.  With  the  carelessness  of  his  race  he  packed  them  away 
while  still  warm.  When  we  opened  the  bundle  at  the  ranch  this 
morning,  all  were  spoiled  and  in  a  state  of  decay.  Josh  said  we  had 
beans,  rice,  and  coffee  enough  for  a  month,  so  we  took  his  word  for  it 


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127 


and  pushed  on  into  the  wilderness,  deciding  to  rely  on  our  guns  for 
the  rest.  I  have  a  few  pounds  of  julienne  which  will  keep  us  from 
scurvy. 

As  soon  as  we  were  across  the  Cano  Guaratarito,  the  guide  at 
once  bore  off  so  far  to  the  left  that  I  feared  he  was  heading  for  Cravo 
and  avoiding  the  Indian  country.  He  said  the  road  which  we  de¬ 
sired  to  take  had  not  been  used  for  several  years  and  he  did  not  wish 
to  go  that  way.  He  admitted  that  he  was  heading  for  Cravo.  We 
finally  persuaded  him  to  take  the  direct  route  across  the  wilderness 
to  El  Limbo.  Before  long  we  passed  a  dried-up  swamp  where  we 
saw  the  skeletons  of  small  crabs  that  look  like  ordinary  sand  crabs, 
with  a  very  fragile  shell  one  inch  in  diameter. 

At  half-past  eleven  we  crossed  the  Cano  de  la  Bendicion,  a  heavily 
wooded  stream,  the  first  we  have  seen  since  leaving  Arauca,  and  after 
passing  through  the  woods  on  the  farther  bank,  found  ourselves  in  a 
great  savanna  entirely  devoid  of  cattle.  The  grass  had  not  been 
burned  recently  and  in  places  was  very  long,  almost  up  to  our 
shoulders  as  we  rode.  At  half-past  one  I  crossed  the  river  Lipa, 
after  trying  in  vain  for  an  hour  to  shoot  some  very  wild  deer.  In 
the  course  of  the  afternoon  I  shot  a  fat  doe  which  had  been  wounded 
by  a  Yaruro  arrow  that  had  failed  to  penetrate  the  right  shoulder 
blade.  The  wound  had  healed  nicely  and  the  venison  was  excel¬ 
lent. 

Shortly  before  reaching  the  Lipa  we  saw  sixty  storks  together  in  a 
lagoon.  They  had  white  breasts,  black  tails,  wings  tipped  with 
black,  white  necks  and  heads  and  a  reddish  spot  around  the  eyes. 
The  beaks  were  whitish,  dark  at  the  tip.  The  birds  stood  about 
three  feet  high. 

About  half-past  four  we  saw  three  naked  Indians  a  mile  away, 
but  they  almost  immediately  disappeared.  Half  an  hour  later  we 
reached  the  banks  of  the  river  Ele,  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide 
and  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  deep,  with  a  good  current,  at  this  season. 
Its  banks  are  heavily  wooded  and  are  at  present  fifteen  to  twenty 
feet  above  the  muddy  stream.  It  will  cause  us  some  trouble  to  cross 
with  our  loads  unless  we  succeed  in  getting  a  canoe  from  the  Indians. 
The  men  declare  that  we  shall  be  troubled  to-night  by  both  Indians 
and  “tigers”  (jaguars),  who  will  not  attack  us  but  will  steal  our 


COLOMBIA 


1 28 

mules.  Rice  and  I  have  agreed  to  divide  the  night’s  watch  between 
us. 

March  6th.  We  had  an  exciting  night.  It  was  uncomfortably 
cold,  my  three  heavy  blankets  and  four  thin  ones  proving  none  too 
warm.  A  very  heavy  dew  fell  and  our  blankets  were  quite  wet  this 
morning.  I  was  on  watch  from  nine  until  one.  About  half-past 
eleven  I  was  sitting  in  my  folding  camp-chair  in  the  savanna  a  hundred 
feet  away  from  the  camp-fire,  where  I  supposed  I  could  not  be  seen. 
Just  as  the  moon  rose,  I  heard  a  large  animal  coming  through  the 
woods  towards  the  camp.  As  it  came  closer  I  was  tempted  to  shoot 
in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  but  waited  in  hopes  it  might  come  a  bit 
more  into  the  open.  I  feared  that  it  might  be  an  Indian,  who  if  only 
wounded  would  make  trouble  for  us  on  the  morrow.  Just  as  the 
creature  was  on  the  point  of  coming  out  of  the  jungle  into  the  open 
space  in  front  of  the  camp,  the  moon  came  out  from  behind  a  cloud 
and  shone  brightly  on  my  gun.  The  noise  instantly  stopped  and  a 
moment  later  the  animal  began  stealthily  to  retreat  into  the  jungle, 
so  that  I  never  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  what  it  was.  I  think 
an  Indian  would  have  made  less  noise.  The  negroes  were  so  fright¬ 
ened  by  the  fact  that  they  had  seen  wild  Indians  shortly  before  sun¬ 
set  that  they  could  not  sleep  at  all,  but  kept  a  good  fire  going  until 
the  moon  rose.  All  got  up  early  this  morning  and  confronted  the 
problem  of  ferrying  the  stuff  across  the  river. 

In  the  hopes  that  the  Indians  would  come  with  a  canoe,  I  fired 
three  shots  from  my  revolver  and  ten  minutes  later  heard  a  faint 
shout  from  the  northeast.  A  few  minutes  afterwards  three  or 
four  nude  figures  appeared  half  a  mile  away  on  the  horizon.  I  went 
out  with  Juan  to  meet  them.  We  each  had  a  revolver,  but  carried 
no  guns  in  our  hands.  Waving  our  arms,  beckoning  and  calling  the 
Indians,  we  encouraged  the  foremost  to  approach  and  meet  us  in 
the  middle  of  the  savanna.  He  was  covered  by  armed  Indians  in  the 
bushes,  as  I  could  see  with  my-  glasses,  but  carried  nothing  himself. 
We  were  covered  by  our  friends  in  the  camp.  The  Indian  was  quite 
timid  but  finally  approached  and  shook  hands.  We  patted  him  on 
the  back,  and  had  no  difficulty  in  making  him  understand  that  we 
were  “buena  gente,”  peaceable  folk  who  wanted  a  canoe  in  which  to 
cross  the  river.  He  understood  a  few  words  of  Spanish.  The  chief 


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desired  a  “camisa”  (shirt)  and  “pantalon”  (trousers)  in  exchange 
for  the  use  of  his  canoe.  This  was  agreed  upon  and  in  a  short  time 
a  small  dug-out  arrived  and  the  work  of  ferrying  the  stuff  and  the 
animals  began. 

These  Indians  were  Yaruros.  In  a  short  time  several  of  them 
came  into  camp.  One  of  them  wore  a  cheap  figured  cotton  hand¬ 
kerchief  tied  over  his  head  and  a  cloth  mantle  over  his  shoulders,  but 
the  rest  wore  nothing  but  breech  cloths.  The  first  two  or  three 
Yaruros  who  came  had  to  be  led  into  camp  by  the  hand,  as  they 


Visitors  at  our  Camp  on  the  Ele  River. 


were  afraid  to  approach  without  some  exhibition  of  friendliness. 
They  offered  no  objections  to  having  their  pictures  taken.  I  do  not 
suppose  they  knew  what  we  were  doing.  Gradually  the  camp  filled 
up  with  Indians,  men  and  women,  boys  and  babies,  who  filtered 
silently  through  the  bushes  until  more  than  twenty  stood  around  the 
camp-fire,  talking  together  with  their  peculiar  guttural  grunts  and 
watching  our  every  movement.  Most  of  those  who  came  into  camp 
carried  no  arms,  but  with  the  glasses  we  could  see  their  friends  armed 
and  looking  out  for  their  safety.  All  the  women  had  babies  slung 


130 


COLOMBIA 


in  tiny  hammocks  over  their  shoulders.  We  tried  to  trade  for  one 
of  these  hammocks,  but  without  success.  One  of  the  men  carried 
a  native  hammock  or  chinchora,  which  Angel  secured  in  trade  for 
an  old  coat  and  a  bowie-knife.  I  gave  the  Indians  each  a  pin  which 
aroused  their  curiosity  and  seemed  to  please  them  greatly.  We  all 
had  breakfast  together,  Josh  having  lavishly  cooked  a  large  quantity 
of  beans,  rice,  and  venison.  Half  a  dozen  Indians,  afraid  to  leave 
the  bushes,  peered  out  as  best  they  could,  dodging  and  disappearing 
noiselessly  as  soon  as  one  of  us  looked  in  their  direction. 

The  chief  was  very  friendly,  put  his  hand  on  my  shoulder,  patted 
me  on  the  back,  took  off  my  pith  helmet,  put  it  on  himself,  ran  his 
fingers  through  my  hair,  said  “bonito,”  patted  his  heart  saying, 
“contento,”  patted  my  heart,  smiled,  and  asked  for  my  cartridge  belt 
and  then  for  my  gloves.  The  gauntlets  excited  the  greatest  admira¬ 
tion,  as  they  had  apparently  seen  nothing  of  that  kind  before.  By 
making  signs  that  all  these  things  were  part  of  my  uniform  as  “capi- 
tan,”  I  managed  to  keep  them  without  giving  any  offense.  The 
chief’s  ears  had  been  pierced,  as  had  those  of  several  of  the  men. 
One  or  two  of  them  bore  the  marks  of  spear  or  arrow  wounds. 

The  man  with  the  cotton  kerchief  offered  to  trade  it  for  my  silk 
one,  but  this  we  declined.  The  old  men  had  dull,  stupid  faces,  but 
the  boys  had  bright  eyes  and  seemed  to  be  quite  intelligent.  They 
partook  greedily  of  our  breakfast,  and  especially  favoured  the  boiled 
venison.  The  women  wore  a  rough  garment  of  bark  cloth  around 
their  waists,  and  stood  together  apart  by  themselves.  We  gave  them 
food  which  they  barely  tasted  and  carefully  wrapped  up  to  take 
home  for  their  husbands.  None  of  them  showed  any  inclination  to 
finger  anything  unless  it  was  offered  for  their  examination.  Most 
of  them  were  timid,  but  even  the  bolder  ones  wrere  not  rude. 

In  the  meantime,  the  men  got  the  stuff  across  and  the  Yaruros 
filtered  away  into  the  bushes  until  I  was  left  alone  on  the  bank  with 
only  two  Indians.  The  mysterious  disappearance  of  the  others  made 
me  a  bit  nervous  although  I  was  well  armed.  The  canoe  was  very 
cranky  and  so  narrow  that  one  could  not  sit  down  in  it.  Josh  had 
already  capsized  it  once  and  been  ducked,  but  I  got  safely  across, 
guns  and  all,  and  we  proceeded  to  dress  up  the  Yaruro  chief  with  an 
old  tennis  shirt  and  a  pair  of  gray  flannel  trousers  which  made  him 


ARAUCA  TO  LIMBO 


I3I 

look  very  festive.  He  was  greatly  delighted  with  his  altered  appear¬ 
ance  and  soon  made  his  excuses,  saying  he  would  meet  us  farther 
along  and  trade,  but  we  never  saw  him  again. 

Humboldt  says  the  Yaruros  were  formerly  a  powerful  and  numer¬ 
ous  nation  on  the  banks  of  the  Orinoco.  Codazzi,  in  his  atlas  of 
Venezuela,  also  places  them  on  the  Ele  and  the  Lipa. 

We  left  the  Ele  at  half-past  eleven,  passed  the  jungle  on  the  right 
bank  and  came  again  to  very  long  grass  through  which  we  had  great 
difficulty  in  forcing  our  way.  We  took  turns  in  going  ahead  and 
making  our  mules  jump  up  and  down  in  order  to  beat  a  path  through 
it.  The  country  was  very  wild.  We  saw  few  animals;  occasionally 
a  heron  or  an  ibis  in  a  lagoon. 

About  four  o’clock  we  came  to  a  bad  swamp  flanking  a  lagoon 
in  such  a  way  that  our  only  safe  path  lay  through  the  lagoon  for 
three  hundred  yards.  Juan  went  ahead  on  foot  and  found  the  water 
came  up  to  his  waist.  He  cut  a  path  through  the  rushes,  and  finally 
we  all  got  safely  across.  Richard’s  mule,  tired  from  his  recent  excur¬ 
sion  after  the  stray  oxen,  becoming  discouraged,  lay  down  in  the 
middle  of  the  lagoon  and  disappeared  entirely  from  view.  Richard, 
up  to  his  armpits  in  the  swamp,  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  hold 
the  mule’s  nose  out  of  the  water  and  keep  him  from  drowning.  After 
a  while  we  succeeded  in  getting  him  out,  but  unfortunately  he  had 
been  carrying  my  saddle  bags  and  their  contents  were  not  all  intended 
to  be  submerged. 

In  the  meantime  we  had  a  call  from  more  Yaruros.  One  of  them 
wore  a  brilliant  head-dress  decorated  with  scarlet  ibis  feathers.  As 
he  came  prancing  bravely  over  the  plain  with  his  waving  plumes, 
he  presented  a  striking  spectacle.  He  willingly  traded  his  ornament 
for  a  red  silk  handkerchief.  Another  Yaruro  had  an  old  hammock 
slung  over  his  back  from  his  forehead,  which  he  traded  for  a  small 
silver  coin.  From  another  I  bought  for  a  pin  and  an  inch  of  red 
pencil,  a  small  bunch  of  plantains  which  served  for  our  supper. 
With  the  pencil  he  proceeded  to  paint  his  face  and  hands. 

It  was  late  by  the  time  we  got  through  the  swamp,  but  we  went  on 
until  darkness  fell  and  Juan  lost  his  way.  After  the  most  exciting 
twenty-four  hours  that  we  have  had  on  our  journey  so  far,  we  finally 
camped  near  a  line  of  woods  which  marked  a  partly  dry  watercourse. 


132 


COLOMBIA 


We  saw  three  deer  to-day,  but  they  were  very  wild.  Some  of  the  dried- 
up  swamps  which  we  passed  contained  shells  of  snails  and  crabs. 

March  7th.  We  had  a  heavy  dew  again  last  night  and  the  cold 
was  quite  penetrating.  By  two  o’clock  today,  the  temperature  had 
risen  to  920  F.  in  the  shade.  We  have  seen  few  ducks,  so  that  veni¬ 
son  is  our  chief  diet.  The  venados  have  been  hunted  so  much  by 
the  Yaruros  that  they  are  extremely  timid  and  it  requires  careful 
stalking  to  make  sure  of  one.  Ever  since  leaving  Arauca  we  have 
had  but  two  meals  a  day.  A  stick  of  “erbswurst”  or  a  piece  of 


Between  the  Ele  and  the  Cravo  Rivers. 


chocolate  enables  one  to  get  through  the  day’s  march  without  feeling 
faint.  The  oxen  are  provokingly  slow  but  they  cannot  be  hurried 
and  are  doing  their  work  as  well  as  could  be  expected.  They  make 
about  fifteen  miles  a  day.  They  do  not  eat  maize  but  depend  on 
what  they  can  pick  up  at  night  when  tethered  and  by  the  side  of  the 
trail  in  the  daytime.  We  have  a  little  maize  for  the  mules,  but  can¬ 
not  carry  much. 

The  Llanos  hereabouts  differ  from  those  over  which  we  have 
passed  in  having  a  great  number  of  large  swamps  which  make  travel 
very  difficult  even  in  the  dry  season.  A  detour,  sometimes  two  or 
three  miles  in  length,  often  has  to  be  made  in  order  to  get  around  a 


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133 


bad  swamp  not  half  a  mile  in  width.  It  is  easy  to  see  from  the  con¬ 
dition  of  the  land  that  the  rainy  season  makes  this  country  practi¬ 
cally  impassable,  and  yet  it  was  through  here  in  the  worst  of  the 
rainy  season  that  the  British  Legion  and  Bolivar’s  little  army  marched. 
One  cannot  help  wondering  what  the  veterans  of  Waterloo  thought 
as  they  waded,  swam,  and  floundered  across  these  terrible  swamps. 

This  morning  we  passed  through  a  large  jungle  near  a  deserted 
Yaruro  village.  The  guide  said  it  was  inhabited  only  in  winter. 
The  shelters,  one  could  scarcely  call  them  huts,  were  extremely 
primitive.  A  cane  or  pole  was  tied  by  vines  between  two  trees  that 
were  conveniently  near  together.  Large  palm  leaves  of  the  kind 
commonly  used  for  thatching  roofs  were  rested  against  this  pole  at 
an  angle  of  45  degrees.  Near  each  shelter  was  the  remains  of  a  camp¬ 
fire,  the  partly  burned  sticks  of  wood  radiating  like  a  many  pointed 
star  from  the  ashes.  There  are  no  stones  in  the  vicinity.  In  all 
there  were  about  twenty  shelters,  the  largest  being  nine  feet  long  and 
six  feet  high,  while  the  smallest  consisted  of  but  three  palm  branches 
and  the  remains  of  a  fire.  There  were  no  broken  utensils  anywhere 
about.  The  occupants  of  one  hut  had  taken  the  trouble  to  build  a 
small  frame  for  a  spit  by  means  of  two  forked  sticks.  Juan  said 
that  the  Yaruros  came  here  to  eat  the  dates  of  that  variety  of  palm 
which  is  used  all  over  Venezuela  for  thatching  houses.  Monkeys 
are  also  very  fond  of  these  dates. 

The  presence  of  so  many  swamps  breaks  up  the  horizon,  so  that 
one  frequently  sees  small  groves  in  addition  to  the  long  line  of  jungle 
that  betokens  the  presence  of  a  stream.  Shortly  after  six  this  evening, 
we  stopped  at  one  of  these  smaller  groves  where  we  could  get  dry 
wood  for  our  fire.  Near  by,  Juan  dug  a  hole  in  an  apparently  dry 
cano,  and  in  a  short  time  we  had  a  small  well  yielding  very  good 
water. 

March  8th.  It  took  us  three  hours  to  get  breakfast  and  break 
camp  this  morning.  The  negroes  are  proving  more  and  more  lazy 
and  shiftless.  Richard  is  supposed  to  have  charge  of  my  belongings, 
but  he  did  not  take  the  trouble  yesterday  or  the  day  before  to  dry 
any  of  the  things  that  got  soaked  in  the  saddle  bags  when  his  mule 
went  down  in  the  swamp.  This  morning  I  found  the  hammock  in  a 
dreadful  state  and  the  tool  kit  falling  to  pieces.  Josh  as  cook  is  so 


134 


COLOMBIA 


careless  that  the  kitchen  outfit  is  disappearing  piece  by  piece.  It  is 
very  difficult  to  make  them  feel  that  they  have  any  responsibility 
whatsoever.  The  deserter  Angel  is  also  proving  to  be  of  less  use 
every  day,  but  there  is  some  excuse  for  him  as  he  is  the  only  one 
that  is  not  mounted.  He  is  only  shod  with  alpargats,  the  worst  excuse 
for  a  shoe  that  I  have  ever  seen.  These  sandals  are  made  with  a  hole 
at  the  toe  so  as  to  admit  thorns  and  insects,  very  soon  fall  to  pieces 
and  become  of  little  use  except  to  delay  the  wearer.  For  a  while 
Angel  was  willing  to  drive  one  of  the  oxen,  but  today  he  preferred 
to  march  a  mile  or  two  in  the  rear  of  the  caravan. 

We  have  occasionally  had  Indian  paths  to  follow,  but  this  morning 
we  had  once  more  to  break  our  way  through  the  tall  prairie  grass, 
the  guide  getting  his  bearings  by  groves  of  trees  across  the  savanna. 
The  grass  was  frequently  taller  than  our  heads  as  we  rode,  and  it 
was  hard  work  beating  a  path  for  the  oxen. 

This  noon  we  crossed  the  river  Cravo.  The  banks  at  the  point 
where  we  crossed,  were  covered  with  the  fresh  spoor  of  a  jaguar. 
This  is  as  near  as  we  have  gotten  to  any  really  dangerous  wild  animals. 
In  the  jungle  of  the  Cravo  we  encountered  several  settlements  of 
hornets  that  caused  a  temporary  stampede  among  our  animals. 
After  passing  the  Cravo,  the  plains,  wet  enough  before,  become 
markedly  more  swampy.  Almost  the  only  fourfooted  animals 
seen  in  the  past  three  days  are  a  few  deer,  single  or  in  pairs,  and 
very  wild.  This  noon  we  had  a  fresh  breeze  from  the  northwest, 
the  first  westerly  wind  that  we  have  experienced,  and  a  sign  of  the 
approaching  rainy  season. 

About  sundown  we  camped  near  a  water  hole  where  the  mos¬ 
quitoes  held  high  carnival.  Rice  said  they  woke  him  up  every  half 
hour,  but  by  putting  on  my  head-net  and  keeping  my  hands  under 
the  blankets,  I  managed  to  sleep.  Many  of  the  forest  trees  are  now 
in  bloom,  the  most  conspicuous  one,  covered  with  yellow  flowers, 
looking  from  a  distance  like  a  giant  chrysanthemum.  We  have  seen 
a  few  orchids. 

March  gth.  The  guide  says  we  are  now  a  long  day’s  journey 
from  Limbo.  Accordingly,  we  got  an  early  start  this  morning. 
The  country  continues  to  have  the  same  appearance,  small  groves  of 
detached  palms  and  other  trees,  an  occasional  oasis,  very  long  grass 


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x35 


in  the  savannas,  frequent  depressions  containing  swamps  more  or 
less  dry,  no  hills,  rolling  plains  with  slight  undulations,  and  always 
a  line  of  trees  on  the  horizon.  One  gets  no  ocean-like  expanse  in  this 
part  of  the  Llanos.  Although  it  is  near  the  end  of  the  dry  season, 
everything  is  very  green.  We  have  seen  few  birds  of  any  kind  for 
the  past  four  or  five  days.  This  morning  the  plains  are  like  those  in 
Venezuela  near  Guanare  and  Tocupido.  There  are  parrots  chat¬ 
tering  and  screaming  in  the  trees  or  flying  very  fast  in  pairs.  Macaws 
are  also  becoming  frequent  again,  and  we  passed  a  tree  full  of  large 
oriole  nests  like  those  in  Tocupido. 

While  negotiating  a  wide  swamp  this  morning  where  it  was  neces¬ 
sary  to  go  three  miles  in  order  to  advance  half  a  mile,  I  saw  two  large 
horned  screamers  ( Palamedea  cor  nut  a)  perched  on  a  tree  top.  Their 
cry  sounds  like  a  bull-frog’s  hoarse  gulp.  I  saw  one  three  days  ago 
for  the  first  time.  These  birds  are  larger  than  turkeys,  have  black 
bodies  and  tails,  white  breasts,  black  heads  with  a  curious  unicorn 
effect  consisting  of  an  erect  feather-bone  three  inches  long  that  curves 
forward  from  the  middle  of  the  head. 

Although  we  prepared  as  well  as  we  knew  how  against  all  sorts  of 
venomous  snakes,  we  have  so  far  not  seen  a  single  snake  of  any 
description.  This  afternoon  we  saw  a  number  of  snake’s  eggs  on 
the  ground,  white  and  slightly  larger  than  a  robin’s  egg,  with  a  soft 
shell. 

I  wounded  a  buck,  but  he  succeeded  in  hiding  in  the  long  grass 
and  we  looked  for  him  in  vain  for  an  hour,  finally  giving  up  the  hunt, 
the  more  willingly  as  I  knew  we  had  three  legs  of  roast  venison  when 
we  left  camp  this  morning.  But  owing  to  the  carelessness  of  Josh 
and  Richard,  they  were  lost  during  the  day,  so  we  had  no  meat  for 
dinner. 

About  four  o’clock  the  country  grew  more  swampy  and  finally 
came  to  be  almost  entirely  flooded.  Juan  looked  worried  and  in  a 
short  time  we  were  absolutely  unable  to  proceed.  We  were  only  a 
league  from  Limbo.  The  river  Totumito  has  become  so  swollen 
with  the  showers  of  the  past  few  days  that  it  is  impossible  to  do  any¬ 
thing  but  wait  for  it  to  subside.  Accordingly,  we  went  back  and 
camped  on  the  banks  of  a  large  lagoon  near  some  snake  holes  and 
hoped  that  we  might  reach  Limbo  tomorrow. 


COLOMBIA 


ij6 


March  io th.  As  a  precautionary  measure  against  the  snakes 
last  evening  I  lighted  a  fire  in  the  grass  a  hundred  yards  to  leeward 
of  us,  but  it  burned  so  fiercely  and  worked  up  to  windward  so  fast 
that  it  threatened  to  burn  us  into  the  lagoon.  We  had  to  work  until 
late  to  put  it  out. 

Juan  went  off  on  an  ox  this  morning  to  explore,  and  returned  with 
the  cheering  information  that  the  rivers  are  so  swollen  that  it  is 
impossible  to  pass  them  except  by  swimming.  The  banks  of  the 
streams  are  under  water  and  there  is  from  four  to  six  feet  of  water  in 
the  jungle,  so  that  the  problem  of  getting  our  stuff  across  is  a  serious 
one.  Between  us  and  Limbo,  to  the  south  and  west  of  our  camp, 
is  a  stretcli  of  two  miles  of  drowned  land  crossed  by  three  streams 
varying  in  depth  from  four  to  ten  feet.  To  the  north  lagoons  and 
swamps  stretch  away  interminably.  The  only  direction  in  which  it 
seems  possible  to  proceed  is  eastwards,  whence  we  came.  We  must 
wait  for  the  flood  to  subside  before  we  can  ford  the  streams.  Juan 
offered  to  take  one  of  the  men,  swim  the  stream  and  walk  to  Limbo 
for  a  canoe.  This  seemed  to  be  the  best  plan  and  Angel  was  deputed 
to  go  with  him  and  return  with  aid  as  soon  as  possible. 

To  make  matters  worse,  our  provisions  have  mysteriously  given 
out.  Josh  bought  in  Arauca  “coffee  enough  for  a  month,”  but  it 
lasted  only  three  days.  We  have  trusted  him  too  implicitly,  not 
realizing  how  rapidly  he  was  wasting  the  supplies.  Our  sugar,  rice, 
and  beans  are  all  used  up.  In  fact  nearly  everything  is  gone  except 
julienne,  salt,  and  a  few  packages  of  dried  soup.  All  the  venison 
was  lost  yesterday.  The  floods  here  and  the  fires  which  the  guide 
has  been  starting  from  time  to  time  have  scared  away  all  the  game. 
There  are  a  number  of  ducks  flying  overhead,  but  the  overflowing  of 
the  river  seems  to  have  disturbed  them  so  that  they  have  lost  track  of 
their  feeding  grounds  and  do  not  light  anywhere.  After  wading  in 
the  swamp  up  to  my  waist  for  an  hour  I  succeeded  in  shooting  two 
ducks,  the  only  ones  that  had  the  kindness  to  come  within  range. 

Towards  noon  Richard  and  I  started  off  to  see  what  could  be 
shot  for  dinner.  After  wading  about  two  miles,  I  finally  shot  two 
horned  screamers.  They  were  standing  in  a  swamp  with  a  dozen 
others  of  their  kind.  The  largest  bird  measured  six  feet  eight  inches 
from  tip  to  tip  of  wing  and  had  double  spurs  on  each  wing.  No  one 


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J3  7 


knew  whether  they  were  good  to  eat  but  we  took  the  risk  and  found 
the  meat  coarse  and  very  strong.  It  used  up  nearly  all  of  our  salt. 
This  evening  we  expected  Juan  to  return,  but  he  failed  to  appear. 

March  nth.  This  was  one  of  the  hardest  days  we  have  had  yet. 
Breakfast  consisted  of  warmed-over  horned  screamers  and  julienne, 
neither  of  which  we  could  eat.  About  noon  Juan  and  Angel  re¬ 
turned  from  Limbo  with  word  that  there  was  no  canoe  to  be  had 
and  that  the  old  trail  is  impassable,  but  that  by  working  hard  they 
could  make  a  new  trail  so  that  we  may  get  to  Limbo  this  afternoon. 
We  sent  Josh  with  them  to  hurry  them  up  and  assist  in  the  labour  of 
cutting  a  path  through  the  jungle  and  making  a  raft  to  take  the  loads 
across  the  swollen  rivers.  On  the  strength  of  being  promised  the 
oranges,  milk,  and  cheese  of  “  Limbo  ”  in  the  afternoon,  we  divided 
our  last  piece  of  chocolate  between  us  and  rested  in  our  hammocks 
as  patiently  as  we  could. 

The  water-fowl,  egrets,  gray  herons,  scarlet  and  white  ibis,  are 
extremely  wild  and  fly  rapidly  in  flocks  far  over  our  heads.  The  sun 
was  frightfully  hot  during  the  day  and  there  are  no  shade  trees  on 
any  of  the  dry  land.  The  food  supply  is  getting  to  be  a  very  serious 
problem,  as  the  horned  screamers  have  not  proved  digestible  and 
the  julienne  makes  us  sick.  Our  greatest  comfort  is  a  breeeze  which 
blows  gently  and  almost  continuously  from  the  northeast  or  north¬ 
west  and  keeps  away  the  little  flies  and  mosquitoes,  which  would 
otherwise  make  life  unbearable. 

About  four  o’clock  it  began  to  look  as  though  no  one  would  return, 
so  it  became  necessary  to  secure  some  fresh  meat  if  possible.  Not 
a  duck  was  to  be  seen;  the  ibis  flew  very  high  overhead;  macaws 
chattered  in  a  grove  half  a  mile  away,  but  I  lacked  the  strength  to 
swim  the  lagoon  and  wade  the  swamps  that  lay  between,  so  they  had 
to  be  given  up.  A  large  jabiru  stood  solemnly  in  a  swamp  until  I 
got  within  a  hundred  yards  of  him,  then  flew  slowly  off.  Two 
chattering  lapwings  the  size  of  quails  ( Belonopterus  cayennensis ) 
came  within  gunshot  and,  although  scarcely  worth  the  powder,  they 
provided  a  couple  of  mouthfuls  for  supper.  Finally  I  saw  a  large 
gray  heron  wading  in  a  lagoon,  and  by  crawling  painfully  along  over 
burned  stubble  for  a  hundred  yards,  succeeded  in  getting  within  gun¬ 
shot  of  him.  He  made  a  poor  dish  as  the  meat  was  very  strong.  We 


COLOMBIA 


138 

used  up  the  last  of  the  salt  this  evening  cooking  our  three  strange 
birds;  filled  up  on  dried  white  bean  soup  and  went  to  sleep  to  dream 
of  having  appetizing  food  set  before  us.  Herons  and  horned  screamers 
are  all  very  well  in  their  place,  and  so  is  julienne  and  dried  soup,  but 
they  do  not  give  one  much  strength.  No  one  returned  from  Limbo. 
We  learned  afterwards  that  Josh  reached  the  town  soon  after  noon, 
and  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  eating  and  sleeping  while  we  were  almost 
starving. 

The  river  has  fallen  nearly  a  foot. 

March  12th.  Last  night  was  cool  and  I  had  a  slight  chill,  but 
fortunately  there  was  some  whiskey  left.  For  breakfast  we  had 
more  bean  soup.  The  salt  is  all  gone. 

It  is  an  effort  to  walk  thirty  feet.  We  were  quite  played  out  this 
morning  and  too  weak  to  undertake  stalking  in  the  swamps  for  game. 
It  seemed  as  though  all  I  could  do  was  to  doze  in  the  hammock 
which  was  hung  between  two  partly  dead  trees. 

About  noon  Josh  appeared  with  a  boy  from  Limbo  bringing  milk, 
oranges,  strips  of  roasted  jerked-beef,  and  fried  plantains.  Never  did 
food  taste  so  good,  and  never  was  it  more  welcome.  We  rested  a  bit 
after  eating;  then  Juan  returned,  the  oxen  were  loaded  and  we  began 
the  worst  twelve  hours  of  our  entire  march.  The  river  had  by  this 
time  fallen  a  couple  of  feet  and  Juan  had  succeeded  in  finding  a 
feasible  means  of  getting  us  to  Limbo. 

Juan,  the  boy  from  Limbo,  Josh  and  Richard  each  took  charge 
of  an  ox  and  attempted  to  follow  an  imaginary  trail  over  the  drowned 
land.  Josh  had  charge  of  the  Calico  ox,  carrying  the  gun  case,  a 
brown  bag  with  all  my  clothes,  and  the  tool  bag.  Before  he  had  gone 
a  quarter  of  a  mile,  the  girths  slipped  and  the  load  fell  into  the  swamp. 
Josh  called  loudly  for  aid,  but  Richard  was  so  angry  at  him  for  loaf¬ 
ing  all  day  yesterday  at  Limbo  and  letting  us  starve,  that  he  refused 
to  help  him.  Acting  as  rear  guard,  I  came  to  his  assistance.  The 
load  had  completely  disappeared  under  the  ox,  who  was  standing  in 
two  feet  of  water.  Josh  righted  it  with  a  mighty  shove,  pushing  the 
ox  over  on  top  of  me  and  ducking  me  in  the  swamp.  My  rifle  dis¬ 
appeared  and  could  not  be  found  for  some  time.  The  ox  was  finally 
reloaded  and  went  nearly  thirty  feet  before  his  load  fell  off  again. 
In  the  meantime  Richard  had  had  to  return  to  our  late  camp  for  a 


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139 


forgotten  water  bottle,  and  came  along  just  in  season  to  assist  with 
the  second  reloading.  By  the  time  this  was  accomplished,  Juan  and 
the  boy,  who  knew  the  trail,  had  completely  disappeared  from  view. 
After  considerable  difficulty  wre  forded  a  little  stream,  twenty  feet 
wide  and  four  feet  deep,  and  at  length  found  the  guide  and  the  boy 
standing  in  two  feet  of  water  in  the  jungle,  near  the  Cano  Guata,  a 
rapidly  flowing  stream  forty  feet  wide  and  eight  feet  deep.  The 
animals  floundered  about,  rearing  and  plunging  in  the  mire,  trying 
in  vain  to  find  some  safe  spot  on  which  to  stand. 

At  this  point  in  the  cano  a  tree  trunk  had  been  thrown  across  the 
stream  to  serve  as  a  foot  bridge.  It  was  now  from  three  to  five  feet 
under  water.  Juan  stretched  a  rawhide  lasso  across  the  stream  just 
above  the  submerged  tree  trunk  and  it  was  his  plan  to  carry  the  loads 
across  on  his  head  and  shoulders,  wading  on  the  slippery  sunken  log, 
and  hanging  on  to  the  lasso  with  one  hand.  We  had  hardly  arrived 
when  the  boy  from  the  ranch,  who  was  testing  the  bridge,  shouted  out 
that  he  was  attacked  by  an  alligator.  His  cries  were  pitiful,  but  he 
scrambled  out  on  the  farther  bank,  and  it  was  then  seen  that  he  had 
been  bitten  by  a  caribe  or  cannibal  fish,  which  had  taken  a  piece  of 
flesh  as  big  as  a  dollar  from  the  calf  of  his  leg.  The  poor  boy  was 
much  frightened  and  stood  whimpering  and  shivering  on  the  opposite 
bank,  his  leg  bleeding  profusely. 

To  make  matters  worse  the  water  was  extremely  muddy,  so  that 
we  could  not  see  either  caribes  or  alligators,  if  there  were  any.  But 
we  had  read  enough  of  the  caribes  to  know  that  there  was  now  con¬ 
siderable  danger  in  crossing  the  stream.  Humboldt  says:  “they 
swim  at  the  bottom  of  rivers,  but  if  a  few  drops  of  blood  be  shed  on 
the  water,  they  rise  by  thousands  to  the  surface  so  that  if  a  person  be 
only  slightly  bitten  it  is  difficult  for  him  to  get  out  of  the  water  with¬ 
out  receiving  a  severer  wound.”  The  largest  are  only  five  inches 
long,  but  have  very  large  retractile  mouths  and  very  sharp  triangular 
teeth.  No  other  fish  has  such  a  thirst  for  blood. 

I  could  not  but  admire  Rice’s  courage  in  stripping  completely 
and  crossing  the  stream  three  or  four  times  until  he  had  carried  over 
the  watches,  barometers,  and  compasses.  Thus  encouraged,  the  men 
crossed  and  recrossed,  carrying  the  small  bundles.  Six  of  our  pieces 
were  too  heavy  for  this  unsafe  method,  as  the  force  of  the  stream 


140 


COLOMBIA 


was  so  great  where  the  tree  trunk  was  four  feet  under  water  that  one 
was  in  great  danger  of  losing  his  balance  and  falling  into  the  stream. 
We  then  suspended  a  rope  across  the  stream  from  the  branches  of 
the  forest  trees  and  with  a  crotched  stick  rigged  a  rude  trolley.  On 
the  left  bank  Juan  and  Josh,  aided  by  poor  Richard,  who  had  not 
been  as  well  fed  as  they  for  the  past  two  days,  fastened  the  heavy 
loads  to  our  primitive  trolley.  The  embarking  stage,  if  so  I  may  call 
it,  consisted  of  the  almost  perpendicular  trunks  of  two  small  trees. 
Bracing  himself  between  these  trees,  Juan  tied  the  bundles  one  by 


The  Photograph  Plates  Crossing  the  Cano  Guata. 


one  to  the  cross  piece,  while  Josh  stood  in  four  feet  of  water  and  held 
the  loads  on  his  head  until  they  were  made  fast  to  the  trolley.  On 
the  right  bank  Rice  and  I,  aided  by  the  boy  with  the  bleeding  leg, 
pulled  the  loads  across  and  deposited  them  in  the  mud.  Several 
were  partially  submerged  in  mid-stream,  but  we  managed  to  avoid 
wetting  the  photographic  plates.  After  the  loads  were  safely  over, 
we  proceeded  to  make  the  cattle  swim  the  stream.  After  our  biggest 
ox,  “the  great  white  yak,”  had  safely  swum  across,  he  decided  that 
he  preferred  the  other  bank,  turned,  and  caused  a  small  stampede. 


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141 

We  finished  this  task  about  dusk;  but  the  stuff  still  had  to  be  carried 
a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  on  the  men’s  backs  through  the  miry, 
flooded  jungle  to  a  dry  spot  where  the  animals  would  stand  to  be 
loaded.  They  plunged  about  in  a  frightful  manner  whenever  they 
found  themselves  sinking  in  the  mud.  It  was  an  hour  after  dark 
before  we  got  fairly  started. 

Hardly  had  we  gone  half  a  mile  when  we  came  to  the  rushing 
waters  of  the  river  Totumito.  Fortunately  the  river  was  not  much 
more  than  three  feet  deep.  All  got  safely  across  in  the  darkness 
except  “Calico,”  whose  load  again  turned  turtle  in  the  middle  of  the 
stream.  The  fresh  river  water  served  to  wash  out  the  stagnant  swamp 
water  which  had  soaked  into  the  load  earlier  in  the  day.  After  a 
struggle  lasting  twenty  minutes  the  load  was  righted  and  we  went 
on,  Juan  frequently  losing  his  way  and  the  wet  loads  repeatedly 
slipping  and  turning. 

Although  the  distance  to  El  Limbo  from  the  Totumito  was  less 
than  three  miles,  it  took  us  nearly  six  hours.  The  negroes  were 
helpless;  the  guide,  furiously  angry  at  their  incapacity,  shivered  with 
cold.  The  boy  from  the  ranch  went  home  alone  to  get  his  leg  attended 
to.  Josh  and  Richard  showed  up  in  sad  colours.  While  under  our 
eyes  crossing  the  rivers,  they  worked  fairly  well,  but  in  the  darkness 
they  gave  out  completely,  refused  to  budge  for  an  hour  at  a  time,  and 
took  a  most  terrible  word  thrashing  from  Rice,  who  spared  no  known 
language  to  get  them  to  move. 

It  was  my  job  to  keep  the  guide  from  going  too  far  ahead  and 
leaving  the  caravan  stranded  for  the  night  on  the  savanna.  If  I  had 
not  had  some  whiskey  in  my  saddle  flask,  it  would  have  taken  brute 
force  to  prevent  poor  shivering  Juan  from  disappearing  into  the 
darkness  and  going  to  Limbo  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him. 
We  greatly  missed  Rafael,  our  good  Venezuelan  peon.  He  was  a 
fine  type,  faithful,  hard-working,  and  thoroughly  capable  of  carrying 
out  his  instructions.  We  finally  reached  the  hospitable  ranch  about 
one  o’clock  at  night  and  sat  down  to  a  magnificent  feast  of  beef, 
plantains,  milk,  rice,  and  coffee. 

It  had  taken  us  nearly  thirteen  hours  to  make  a  total  distance  of 
three  miles  and  a  half. 

March  13th.  We  have  really  found  a  haven  of  refuge,  and  yet 


142 


COLOMBIA 


such  is  the  reputation  of  this  place  and  so  far  out  of  the  world  is  it 
considered  to  be  that  its  name  of  “The  Limbo”  is  supposed  to  be 
most  appropriate.  Everything  depends  on  one’s  point  of  view. 

This  ranch  belonged  for  twenty  years  to  General  Vargas,  who  hid 
here  in  a  huge  wooden  trough  when  the  Government  soldiers  came 
to  arrest  him.  General  Perez  bought  it  a  few  months  ago,  and  sent 
his  majordomo  to  get  it  ready  for  him.  The  steward  has  done  a 
good  job  and  has  already  gotten  together  a  score  of  milch  cows  which 
are  milked  every  morning.  We  were  awakened  at  daylight  by  the 
bleating  of  calves,  and  a  few  minutes  later  great  gourds  of  foaming 
milk  were  brought  to  our  hammocks.  Breakfast  followed  shortly 
after,  and  we  fairly  stuffed. 

The  majordomo  is  not  strong  in  the  legs,  but  has  an  active  mind. 
He  sits  all  day  in  his  hammock  and  a  good  part  of  the  time  is  on  the 
watch  to  provide  for  our  needs.  He  presides  over  our  meals  from  a 
respectful  distance,  and  orders  the  men  to  keep  filling  up  our  dishes 
until  we  have  to  cry  enough  in  a  thoroughly  convincing  tone.  He 
directed  that  our  mules  should  be  allowed  to  roam  freely  over  the 
ranch  in  order  that  they  might  get  well  fed  and  rested.  The  oxen 
he  would  not  trust  so  implicitly,  and  gave  orders  that  they  should  be 
tied  each  day  where  there  was  good  fodder. 

We  have  not  had  it  unpleasantly  warm  here,  and  the  temperature 
has  varied  less  than  at  any  other  point,  being  about  750  in  the  early 
morning  and  not  going  over  86°  during  the  day. 

We  unpacked  all  our  stuff  today  and  dried  it  in  the  sun.  Bundles 
that  were  not  intended  to  be  opened  until  we  reached  Bogota  had  been 
completely  drenched  in  the  swamps  and  rivers.  Everything  was  as 
wet  as  water  could  make  it.  A  few  coloured  cravats  sufficed  to 
stain  a  whole  bag  of  clothes. 

The  only  rations  we  had  left,  a  few  packages  of  julienne  and  white 
bean  soup,  were  presented  to  the  majordomo,  who  little  dreamed  how 
sick  we  were  of  the  very  sight  of  them.  Josh  and  Richard  spent  the 
entire  day  huddled  under  blankets  in  their  hammocks,  presenting  a 
sorry  spectacle.  Juan  busied  himself  waiting  on  us  and  helping  us 
in  every  possible  manner.  Angel  has  entered  the  service  of  the 
majordomo,  and  proposes  to  stay  here  and  fatten  up.  Rice  dressed 
the  wound  of  the  fish-bitten  boy,  diagnosed  a  case  of  pleurisy  in  a 


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M3 


cowboy  and  a  case  of  myalitis  in  the  majordomo.  We  plan  to  stay 
here  until  we  regain  our  strength.  Fortunately  we  seem  to  be  very 
welcome,  and  are  urged  by  the  majordomo  to  make  ourselves  at  home 
and  ask  for  anything  we  need  that  is  not  provided. 

March  14 th.  The  sky  was  completely  overcast  yesterday  and 
again  this  morning,  and  the  breeze  came  more  from  the  northwest 
than  the  northeast.  The  wet  season  is  evidently  upon  us.  The 
majordomo  says  it  has  rained  twice  this  month  for  an  hour  at  a 
time,  but  they  have  had  no  other  rain  in  the  three  months  they  have 
been  here. 


Ranch  House  at  El  Limbo. 


The  steward  is  very  energetic  and  has  worked  wonders  during  his 
short  stay.  Besides  keeping  his  men  busy  he  is  training  a  small  boy 
to  look  after  a  flock  of  goats  and  drive  the  pigs,  chickens,  and  ducks 
out  of  the  house.  The  apartments  in  the  long  ranch  house  are  sepa¬ 
rated  by  open  bamboo  screens,  very  rough,  but  sufficient  to  keep  out 
animals.  It  is  most  fortunate  for  us  in  our  famished  condition  that 
the  hospitality  of  Limbo  is  not  like  that  of  Guaratarito,  where  we 
were  half  starved.  It  is  perfectly  astonishing  how  much  food  we  are 


144 


COLOMBIA 


able  to  consume.  Rice  and  I  ate  enough  to-day  for  a  family  of  eight 
people.  When  not  eating  we  spend  most  of  the  time  sleeping. 

There  are  three  sad-looking  cowboys  here.  They  are  more  or 
less  in  rags  and  are  the  most  unhealthy  lot  we  have  yet  seen.  One 
of  them  rode  to  Tame  today  and  expects  to  return  tomorrow.  He 
has  agreed  to  purchase  some  supplies  for  us,  as  we  have  decided  to 
turn  south  from  this  point. 

March  15 th.  A  fat  pig  wras  killed  this  morning  and  we  had  a 
wonderful  luncheon,  consisting  of  garlic  broth,  roast  pig,  fried  pig, 
boiled  pigs’  feet,  boiled  plantains,  fried  plantains,  rice,  hot  milk,  and 
coffee.  As  usual,  we  fell  asleep  immediately  after  eating  and  were 
lost  to  the  world  for  two  or  three  hours.  We  are  now  planning  to 
start  tomorrow  and  hope  to  reach  Bogota  in  a  month.  We  were  due 
there  today. 

About  sunset  the  Llanero  returned  from  Tame,  bringing  provi¬ 
sions  for  our  caravan.  He  was  able  to  buy  for  us  coffee,  rice,  cassava, 
garbanzos  (a  kind  of  dried  pea),  stale  buns  and  panela  (crude  sugar). 
Although  we  bought  only  enough  to  enable  us  to  provide  for  an 
emergency  of  a  fortnight,  our  bill  was  $244.  We  were  relieved,  how¬ 
ever,  to  learn  that  this  calculation  was  made  in  Colombian  paper 
money,  which  we  have  so  far  been  unable  to  obtain.  We  paid  the 
bill  with  three  dollars  in  Venezuelan  subsidiary  silver.  The  alcalde 
of  Tame  sends  word  that  he  has  received  orders  from  President 
Reyes  to  accord  us  every  facility  for  continuing  our  journey.  We 
have  decided  not  to  got  to  Tame,  for  we  are  led  to  believe  that  the 
soldiers  of  the  liberating  army  did  not  go  through  that  town,  but  went 
directly  from  here  to  the  town  of  Casanare  (Puerto  San  Salvador). 

One  of  the  pleasant  features  of  our  entertainment  here  is  a  basket 
of  delicious  oranges  in  the  middle  of  the  morning.  Altogether  we 
have  received  more  elaborate  hospitality  than  anywhere  else  on  our 
journey,  with  the  exception  of  La  Calzada  and  Boca  Suripa.  It  may 
be  merely  a  coincidence  that  the  former  is  owned  by  a  Colombian 
and  the  latter  by  a  gentleman  who  lived  in  Colombia  for  fourteen 
years.  One  is  almost  tempted  to  lay  down  the  rule  that  Colombians 
are  more  liberally  hospitable  than  Venezuelans,  except  for  the  fact  that 
the  owner  of  Guaratarito  is  a  Colombian  and  the  course  of  semi¬ 
starvation  to  which  he  treated  us  is  still  fresh  in  our  minds. 


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J45 


March  16 th.  We  were  awakened  this  morning  by  a  considerable 
commotion  caused  by  Josh,  who  declared  that  during  the  night 
his  best  pantaloons  had  been  stolen  from  his  clothes  bag.  It  hardly 
seemed  likely,  and  both  Rice  and  I  thought  that  he  had  lost  them  in 
some  other  way,  as  he  is  extremely  careless.  He  refused  to  be  com¬ 
forted  by  any  such  suggestion,  and  made  such  a  rumpus  that  the 
majordomo  decided  to  quiet  him  by  holding  an  impromptu  court  of 
justice.  The  ranch  has  but  one  chair.  This  and  my  camp  chair 
were  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  ranch  yard  away  from  the  shelter 
of  the  buildings,  and  Rice  and  I  were  requested  to  sit  there  and  wit¬ 
ness  the  proceedings.  A  poncho  was  spread  on  the  ground  before 
us,  and  all  the  employees  of  the  ranch  were  ordered  to  bring  their 
clothes  and  whatever  worldly  goods  they  possessed  and  deposit  them 
on  the  poncho  for  examination.  Angel  and  Juan  were  included  in 
this  order. 

We  tried  to  laugh  the  matter  off  and  protest  against  such  an  in¬ 
quisitorial  process,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  The  majordomo  was 
positive  that  the  trousers  had  not  been  stolen  and  was  anxious  to 
clear  his  house  of  any  such  imputation.  I  shall  not  soon  forget  the 
scene;  the  ragged  cowboys  gathered  around  the  pile  of  garments  on 
the  ground,  the  negroes  watching  each  roll  narrowly  as  it  was  opened, 
and  the  emaciated  deserter  Angel,  in  fear  and  terror  lest  somehow 
the  guilt  should  be  fastened  on  him.  Josh  had  openly  accused  Angel 
of  the  theft,  not  daring  to  accuse  Juan,  who  was  a  strong  man  and  a 
fighter,  and  who  would  probably  have  knocked  him  down. 

One  by  one  the  rolls  of  clothing  were  untied  and  the  few  articles 
of  apparel  which  each  possessed  were  laid  out  for  exhibition.  Angel 
was  the  most  eager  to  have  his  opened,  but  no  one  was  more  pleased 
than  Juan  when  his  roll  was  opened  and  Josh  declared  that  the 
trousers  were  not  there.  The  last  bundle  to  be  opened  was  covered 
with  a  white  kerchief  and  belonged  to  the  head  cowboy,  the  husband 
of  the  cook.  He  is  the  most  trusted  person  on  the  ranch,  next  to  the 
majordomo,  and  was  the  one  who  had  been  to  Tame  for  our  provi¬ 
sions.  Imagine  our  surprise  when  this  roll  was  opened  and  Josh,  with 
an  exclamation  of  delight,  seized  upon  his  lost  blue  serge  trousers.  No 
one  was  more  astonished  than  the  innocent  cowboy,  who  most  em¬ 
phatically  denied  all  knowledge  of  their  being  in  his  possession.  He 


146 


COLOMBIA 


shouted  to  his  wife,  who  was  peering  out  from  the  kitchen  door,  to 
know  how  these  pantaloons  came  to  be  with  his  clothes,  and  she 
replied  frankly  that  Juan  had  given  them  to  her  that  morning  “to 
keep  for  him.”  It  was  then  remembered  that  that  worthy  pilferer 
had  changed  the  position  of  his  hammock  last  night  and  hung  it  as 
close  as  possible  to  the  spot  where  Josh’s  clothes  bag  lay. 

Nothing  further  was  needed  to  fasten  the  guilt  on  to  our  guide, 
and  we  looked  to  see  how  he  was  going  to  take  it,  but  in  the  meantime 
he  had  left  the  little  circle  of  the  court  and  was  quietly  going  about 
his  business,  attending  to  the  saddling  of  the  oxen  as  though  nothing 
had  happened.  As  we  needed  him  for  several  days  more,  it  was 
deemed  best  to  say  nothing  more  about  it,  although  Josh  clamoured 
for  justice.  The  poor  majordomo  was  greatly  disturbed  that  such  a 
thing  could  have  happened  under  his  roof,  but  the  others  were  natu¬ 
rally  much  relieved.  It  was  almost  pathetic  to  see  Angel  jump  with 
joy  when  the  trousers  were  found  and  the  guilt  finally  attached  to 
some  one  else. 

In  the  course  of  the  morning  Rice  told  me  that  while  we  were 
camping  in  the  swamps,  waiting  for  the  Cano  Guata  to  subside,  he 
had  discovered  a  serious  loss.  We  spent  one  day  going  through  our 
entire  outfit  while  all  the  men  were  away  except  Richard,  and  he 
was  asleep.  Purely  as  a  matter  of  form  Rice  had  opened  a  package 
that  he  carried  in  his  breast  pocket  and  which  had  not  been  separated 
from  him  during  the  entire  journey,  as  he  always  slept  with  his  coat 
hanging  within  a  few  inches  of  his  head.  In  this  package  he  had 
carried  a  gold  chain,  a  family  heirloom,  which  had  for  a  charm  an 
American  gold  eagle.  The  chain,  wrapped  in  a  bit  of  chamois,  was 
placed  in  a  leather  case  which  closed  with  a  loud  snap.  The  case 
was  wrapped  in  a  covering  of  oil  skin,  fastened  securely,  and  the  whole 
thing  tied  up  in  a  silk  handkerchief.  There  were  altogether  four  or 
five  fastenings  and  wrappings  to  be  undone.  Some  night  while  Rice 
was  sound  asleep  a  thief  had  taken  the  bundle  to  pieces,  removed  the 
chain  and  charm,  and  tied  the  whole  thing  up  again  exactly  as  before 
so  that  Rice  had  no  idea  anything  had  been  stolen  until  the  day  we 
overhauled  the  luggage. 

Although  we  felt  morally  sure  that  Juan-of-the-clever-fingers  was 
the  guilty  party,  we  thought  it  advisable  to  wait  until  we  should  reach 


ARAUCA  TO  LIMBO 


147 


Pore,  the  end  of  his  line  of  march,  before  saying  anything  about  it. 
It  gives  one  a  curious  feeling  to  go  to  sleep  in  the  company  of  a  man 
who  is  apparently  able  to  steal  anything  he  likes  in  the  course  of  the 
night  without  wakening  you.  It  seems  to  be  his  principle  not  to  take 
things  that  are  likely  to  be  missed.  He  could  have  stolen  our  gold 
watches  at  any  time,  but  has  not  touched  them. 

Note.  —  The  only  account  that  I  have  been  able  to  find  of  the  trail  between 
Arauca  and  El  Limbo  and  the  Llanos  of  Casanare  is  that  by  Jorge  Brisson  in  a  book 
entitled  “  Casanare,”  published  in  Bogota  in  1896.  Brisson  was  a  civil  engineer  in 
the  service  of  the  Colombian  Government,  and  spent  six  or  seven  months  in  this 
province  in  1894.  He  kept  an  interesting  diary  of  his  itinerary  and  gives  the  distance 
from  Arauca  to  El  Limbo  as  33 h  leagues  (no  miles).  He  speaks  of  the  depredations 
of  the  Indians.  These  have  increased  since  his  day  so  that  the  direct  route  from 
Arauca  to  El  Limbo  has  been  practically  abandoned  for  the  longer  and  safer  road 
bv  wav  of  Cravo. 


CHAPTER  VII 


El  Limbo  to  Pore 

March  16th  (con.).  We  left  El  Limbo  shortly  before  one  o’clock. 
The  sky  was  partly  overcast  and  a  light  breeze  was  blowing  from  the 
northwest.  Today  we  saw  twenty  deer,  more  than  in  any  one  day 
during  our  entire  journey.  They  were  extremely  wild,  and  ran  when 
we  were  more  than  half  a  mile  away  from  them  and  could  hardly  see 
them  without  the  glasses.  It  was  impossible  to  get  within  rifle  shot 
without  taking  more  trouble  than  it  was  worth. 

We  soon  began  to  see  the  foot-hills  of  the  eastern  cordillera  of 
Colombia.  For  nearly  six  weeks  we  have  been  on  the  plains  out  of 
sight  of  the  mountains.  It  gave  one  a  thrill  of  pleasure  to  see  a  hill, 
even  five  hundred  feet  high,  in  the  distance,  and  it  seemed  as  though 
it  must  be  a  mirage. 

About  three  o’clock  we  crossed  the  river  San  Ignacio,  which  has 
a  good  sandy  bottom,  but  such  very  steep  banks  that  we  had  some 
difficulty  in  getting  the  loaded  animals  down  and  up  again.  The 
water  was  not  over  four  feet  deep  and  the  current  not  strong.  Then 
we  entered  the  most  magnificent  savanna  that  we  have  seen.  It  was 
about  five  miles  across,  almost  perfectly  flat,  covered  with  bunch 
grass  and  little  mounds  of  earth.  From  here  we  got  our  first  glimpse 
of  the  peaks  of  the  Andes  over  the  tops  of  the  foot-hills.  As  was  to 
be  expected,  the  country  here  looks  very  much  like  that  near  Barinas, 
and  it  bears  the  same  relation  to  the  mountains  and  the  plains. 
There  are  more  scattered  clumps  of  palms  and  more  evidences  of 
frequent  rains.  There  is  certainly  much  vegetation  that  cannot  be 
accounted  for  by  the  overflowing  of  the  rivers. 

Owing  to  the  “court”  this  morning  we  made  a  late  start  from  El 
Limbo  and  did  not  reach  Casanare,  or  Puerto  San  Salvador  as  it  is 
now  called,  until  after  dark.  Our  reception  was  anything  but  cor¬ 
dial.  Juan  took  us  to  a  building  which  he  said  was  the  posada,  but 

148 


EL  LIMBO  TO  PORE 


149 


the  people  who  lived  there  declared  that  they  had  no  room  for  us  nor 
any  food  and  that  none  could  be  obtained  anywhere.  We  replied 
that  we  had  had  nothing  to  eat  for  twelve  hours,  had  been  in  the  saddle 
for  over  nine  hours,  and  proposed  to  spend  the  night  right  here. 
This  did  not  seem  to  interest  them.  Finally  we  had  to  take  matters 
into  our  own  hands,  open  the  gate,  ride  into  the  yard,  dismount  and 
proceed  to  take  possession  of  the  house.  To  this  they  made  no 
objection  and  before  long  most  politely  served  us  with  beef,  plantains, 
eggs,  and  coffee.  We  could  not  make  out  the  reason  for  our  inhos¬ 
pitable  reception.  It  may  have  been  that  we  carried  arms,  or  because 
we  arrived  so  long  after  dark,  or  because  the  character  of  our  guide 
is  so  well  known.  Whatever  the  reason,  we  were  most  unwelcome. 


The  Llanos  of  the  Casanare. 


March  17 th.  I  went  to  rest  last  night  more  convinced  than  ever 
that  I  must  sleep  with  one  eye  open,  and  during  the  night  my  pre¬ 
caution  was  rewarded.  About  2  a.m.  a  slight  noise  among  our 
clothes  bags  woke  me.  I  got  up,  as  quietly  as  possible,  and  struck  a 
light  suddenly,  which  revealed  Juan  prowling  about.  He  said  he 
was  thirsty  and  was  after  a  drink  of  water.  Our  bags  are  all  locked, 
but  we  cannot  sleep  with  the  keys  in  our  hands  and  he  is  perfectly 
capable  of  taking  the  keys  from  our  coat  pockets  and  returning  them 
without  waking  us.  However,  as  he  now  knows  that  we  are  on  our 
guard,  I  hope  he  will  endeavour  to  restrain  his  kleptomania. 

The  village  of  Puerto  San  Salvador  is  on  the  left  bank  of  the 


COLOMBIA 


150 

Casanare  River,  here  about  six  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide  with  a 
deep,  rapid  current.  During  the  Wars  of  Emancipation,  the  Colom¬ 
bian  patriots  found  it  at  times  their  only  refuge.  For  a  considerable 
period  it  was  the  headquarters  of  General  Santander.  At  present 
the  village  has  only  twenty  houses  lying  on  four  sides  of  an  open  field, 


Ox  the  Plaza  of  Casanare. 


called  by  courtesy  the  Plaza.  Most  of  the  houses  have  thatched  roofs 
and  thatched  or  split  bamboo  sides,  but  one  or  two  have  adobe 
walls.  There  is  one  shop  which  is  now  closed.  There  are  a  few 
cocoanut  trees.  The  jungle  surrounds  the  village  very  closely. 

The  chief  importance  of  the  port  is  as  a  coffee  depot.  Bags  of 
coffee  are  brought  from  Tamara,  Ten,  and  the  various  plantations 
on  the  eastern  slopes  of  the  Andes,  and  shipped  in  bungoes  from 
here  via  the  Meta  and  the  Orinoco  down  to  Ciudad  Bolivar.  The 
canoes  are  small  and  have  higher  bows  and  sterns  than  those  on  the 
Arauca  and  Apure  rivers. 

The  posada  is  practically  a  coffee  warehouse,  if  one  may  give  so 
dignified  a  name  to  a  small  adobe  building  with  a  thatched  roof. 
The  construction  of  the  roofs  seems  to  be  the  same  here  as  in  Vene- 


EL  LIMBO  TO  PORE 


151 

zuela.  The  beams  are  not  nailed  but  tied  together  with  vines  which 
have  first  been  soaked  in  the  river  for  a  few  days.  Palm  branches 
are  laid  on  the  cross  pieces  as  close  together  as  possible,  woven 
together  and  their  ribs  tied. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  people  are  very  anxious  to  have  their 
pictures  taken.  To  snap  the  camera  at  a  group  gives  the  greatest 
pleasure  to  all  concerned.  They  laugh  and  crow  like  children  and 
say  to  each  other  that  they  are  now  going  to  New  York  in  the  photo¬ 
graph.  It  is  sometimes  necessary  to  save  plates  and  films  by  not 
exposing  them  for  each  group  or  individual  that  desires  to  be  taken, 
but  the  process  of  keeping  the  crowd  amused  is  just  as  simple  whether 
one  exposes  the  plate  or  not,  provided  you  go  through  the  motion  of 
taking  the  picture. 


Puerto  San  Salvador  from  across  the  Casanare  River. 


Our  goods  were  ferried  across  the  river  in  a  canoe  by  a  Zambo 
and  his  boy  who  live  in  a  hut  on  the  right  bank.  He  charged  us  one 
hundred  dollars  for  carrying  the  cargoes  and  passengers  and  towing 
the  mules  across.  Our  host  of  the  posada  only  asked  one  dollar  for 
the  entire  entertainment  of  our  party,  and  yet  both  wanted  the  same 


J52 


COLOMBIA 


amount  of  money.  One  was  talking  in  “billetes”  and  the  other  was 
talking  in  “oro,”  and  both  were  completely  satisfied  by  a  Venezuelan 
“fuerte.” 

After  leaving  the  Casanare,  we  passed  through  a  well-watered 
country  containing  numerous  groves  and  a  few  marshy  places  where 
we  saw  numbers  of  carrion  birds  called  bocas.  This  wooded  region 
is  in  great  contrast  to  the  open  savanna  which  we  crossed  yesterday. 
We  passed  two  trees  this  afternoon  covered  with  small,  rather  dry 


Midday  Halt  on  the  Llanos  of  Casanare. 


blossoms  having  no  fragrance  and  of  a  very  light  lilac  colour.  The 
trees  had  no  leaves  and  looked  almost  ghost-like.  They  grew  about 
fifteen  feet  above  the  ground.  I  saw  a  new  variety  of  palm.  It  had 
truncated  leaves  like  a  wine  palm,  and  bore  red  berries,  that  looked 
like  cherries,  in  a  cluster  resembling  a  bunch  of  grapes.  The  trunk 
of  the  tree  was  between  three  and  four  inches  in  diameter  and  the  top 
of  the  highest  frond  was  not  more  than  fifteen  feet  above  the  ground. 
There  were  two  or  three  specimens  in  the  grove,  but  we  saw  no 
others.  Palmettoes  were  quite  abundant. 

The  birds  are  more  like  those  near  Barinas.  The  large  scolding 


EL  LIMBO  TO  PORE 


153 


blackbirds,  first  seen  at  Carabobo,  do  not  seem  to  frequent  the 
lower  plains,  but  are  again  becoming  common.  Today  I  saw  a 
tiny  humming-bird  about  the  size  of  a  large  bumblebee.  Cattle  are 
seen  in  larger  numbers  from  hour  to  hour,  but  we  saw  no  deer  after 
crossing  the  Casanare.  Lizards  began  to  appear  again  today,  the 
first  we  have  seen  since  leaving  Barinas.  They  do  not  seem  to  be 
common  on  the  lower  plains.  It  looks  as  though  the  edge  of  the 
Llanos,  the  region  between  the  hills  and  the  plains,  had  a  flora  and 
fauna  of  its  own.  The  plains  seem  to  end  abruptly  at  the  foot-hills, 
but  in  reality  there  is  a  gradual  rise  from  the  level  Llanos  to  the  edge 
of  the  hills. 

The  breeze  this  morning  was  from  the  northwest.  At  noon  we 
saw  showers  to  the  southwest.  The  people  say  the  heavy  rains  are 

about  to  begin. 

This  afternoon  we  observed  the  first  pebbles  since  leaving  Barinas. 
So  long  have  we  been  away  from  stones  of  any  size  that  they  looked 
like  curiosities  at  first,  but  we  soon  began  to  cross  streams  with 
rocky  beds  like  those  near  Guanare.  We  are  approaching  the  hills. 

Today  we  saw  the  first  travellers  that  we  have  met  in  several 
weeks.  In  the  hope  of  shooting  a  little  game,  either  a  deer  or  a 
macaw,  I  was  riding  well  ahead  of  the  caravan  when  I  met  three  men 
and  a  boy  mounted  on  mules  and  horses.  They  were  quite  alarmed 
by  the  two  guns  that  I  was  carrying,  and  stopped  behind  a  dump  of 
trees  to  arrange  their  knives  and  revolvers  before  venturing  to  ride 
by.  It  made  me  feel  like  a  brigand. 

About  five  o’clock  the  village  of  Corozal  appeared  in  the  distance, 
and  we  soon  drew  up  in  front  of  its  posada.  The  innkeeper  came 
out  to  the  gate  and  refused  us  admission.  He  said  he  had  neither 
room  nor  food  for  us,  and  that  there  was  no  food  to  be  had  in  the 
village.  One  or  two  villagers  gathered  around  and  we  inquired  for 
the  alcalde.  They  said  that  there  was  no  alcalde  in  this  village,  but 
that  he  lived  a  day’s  journey  from  here  in  Chire.  (We  found  out 
afterwards  that  we  were  actually  addressing  that  official  at  the  time, 
and  that  he  had  received  orders  from  the  Governor  to  attend  to  our 
entertainment,  but  for  some  reason  or  other  desired  to  shirk  his 
responsibility.)  Again  arguments  seemed  to  be  of  no  avail  and  we 
were  obliged  to  order  the  innkeeper  to  take  down  his  bars  and  pro- 


154 


COLOMBIA 


vide  us  with  necessities.  As  was  to  be  expected,  we  found  plenty 
of  good  food  and  an  abundance  of  room,  but  we  could  not  help 
wondering  what  caused  a  repetition  of  our  unwelcome  reception  of 
yesterday. 

There  seems  to  be  no  shop  here.  Two  Colombian  cloth  mer¬ 
chants  are  spending  a  few  days  at  the  inn  and  have  a  room  where 
their  goods  are  displayed.  They  come  from  the  vicinity  of  Cucuta 
and  have  quite  a  supply  of  cotton  cloth  made  in  eastern  Massachu¬ 
setts.  They  carry  little  besides  cloth,  needles,  and  thread.  I  bought 
a  spool  of  thread  this  morning  for  which  the  charge  was  twelve 
dollars.  Having  no  bills  I  offered  in  payment  a  Colombian  nickel 
coin  dated  1897  and  having  a  face  value  of  twenty  centavos.  Al¬ 
though  it  is  an  attractive  coin  and  apparently  genuine,  the  merchants 
refused  to  receive  it  and  said  it  was  worth  nothing.  I  protested 
that  it  was  Colombian  money,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  They  would 
not  even  allow  that  it  was  worth  as  much  as  a  paper  dollar,  which 
has  the  value  of  $.0098  gold.  So  I  paid  for  my  thread  with  two 
Venezuelan  silver  coins  worth  $.10.  They  were  not  familiar  with 
such  small  Venezuelan  currency,  but  were  willing  to  accept  the  real 
as  they  know  that  Venezuelan  silver  is  at  a  par  with  gold. 

Near  the  posada  is  a  stone  wall  enclosing  a  paddock.  It  is  about 
four  feet  high,  built  with  great  care,  of  nicely  matched  pebbles  each 
about  as  large  as  a  football,  the  first  that  we  have  seen  since  leaving 
Caracas. 

March  18 th.  The  grass  is  all  dried  up  and  the  beasts  are  having 
a  hard  time  trying  to  pick  up  anything  to  eat.  This  morning  came 
“the  first  rain  of  the  season”  here,  gentle  showers  from  six  until 
nine.  We  left  Corozal  about  half-past  nine.  The  innkeeper,  a  tall, 
thin  man  with  an  “adenoid”  face  and  a  very  prying  disposition, 
asked  us  four  dollars  for  our  entertainment,  but  accepted  two  as 
a  compromise. 

The  plains  stretched  away  to  the  left  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see, 
and  the  hills  were  fairly  close  on  our  right.  The  soil  seems  to  be  poor 
and  barren,  but  the  foot-hills  are  fairly  green.  A  second  range  of 
hills,  twice  as  high  as  the  first,  has  the  same  general  north  and  south 
direction. 

At  noon  we  passed  “El  Sanjon,”  a  heavily  wooded  ravine  thirty 


EL  LIMBO  TO  PORE 


155 


feet  deep  with  very  precipitous  sides.  The  trail  enters  it  by  a  deep 
cut  four  feet  wide.  We  are  told  that  here  the  patriots  and  the  Span¬ 
iards  under  Barreiro  had  a  bloody  skirmish  in  1818.  A  small  force 
could  easily  prevent  a  large  one  from  crossing  the  ravine  for  some  time. 
A  dome-shaped  hill,  six  hundred  feet  high,  rises  abruptly  from  the 
plain  southwest  of  the  ravine. 


El  Sanjon. 


Passing  travellers  and  houses  become  more  frequent.  In  fact 
there  is  nearly  always  a  ranch  in  sight  as  we  ride  along.  The  travel¬ 
lers  are  more  often  on  foot  than  on  horseback,  and  many  of  them 
carry  burdens  on  their  backs  suspended  by  a  strap  from  their  fore¬ 
heads  in  the  usual  Indian  fashion. 

About  half-past  two  we  reached  Chire,  a  wretched  little  village. 
Had  the  oxen  not  been  very  tired  we  should  have  tried  to  push  on. 
Juan  says  we  can  easily  reach  Moreno  tomorrow.  There  are  eight 
or  ten  houses  on  each  side  of  the  narrow  street  of  the  village  where 
cows  are  pastured  for  the  night.  The  dwellings  are  the  most  poverty- 
stricken  thatched  huts  that  we  have  seen.  We  saw  some  fine  plan¬ 
tains  hanging  up  in  a  house  that  we  passed,  and  asked  the  price. 


156 


COLOMBIA 


“The  small  ones  are  six  for  a  dollar  and  the  large  ones  are  one  dollar 
each.”  We  took  “five  dollars’”  worth! 

A  little  to  the  east  of  the  main  street  lies  the  plaza,  an  open  field 
covered  with  grass  and  weeds.  On  its  west  side  is  a  deserted  hut, 
on  its  north  side  a  few  shrubs,  on  the  east  a  little  grass  hut,  and  on  the 
south  a  new  hut  with  adobe  walls.  To  this  last  we  were  conducted 
and  the  larger  of  its  two  rooms  was  put  at  our  disposal.  Here  the 
loads  were  dumped  and  our  hammocks  were  to  have  been  slung,  but 
the  room  had  a  queer  odour.  We  noticed  in  the  room  some  candle¬ 
sticks  and  what  looked  like  a  bier.  As  there  seemed  to  be  no  church 
in  the  village,  we  thought  this  might  be  a  chapel  until  we  were  told 
that  there  had  been  a  wake  here  the  night  before.  It  seems  that  the 
owner  died  of  smallpox,  and  his  daughter  is  dying  with  the  same 
disease  in  the  next  room.  We  preferred  to  sleep  out  of  doors.  Five 
or  six  deaths  have  occurred  here  recently  from  smallpox. 

Crawling  around  the  yard  is  a  little  girl  two  years  old  with  a 
twisted  spine  and  an  infectious  disease  on  the  soles  of  her  feet.  She 
is  absolutely  neglected  except  so  far  as  punishment  is  concerned. 
Soon  after  our  arrival  she  crawled  into  the  kitchen  and  was  driven 
out  by  her  unnatural  mother  with  a  good-sized  leather  thong,  laid  on 
without  mercy.  The  other  children  are  in  rags,  but  this  poor  infant 
is  naked  and  disowned,  not  desired  to  live.  Our  hostess  is  ill  and 
unable  to  provide  us  with  food,  but  fortunately  there  is  a  pulperia  in 
the  village  where  a  fat,  good-natured  Indian  woman  serves  us  hot 
potato  soup  with  wooden  spoons. 

March  19 th.  A  few  drops  of  rain  fell  last  night,  but  not  enough 
to  drive  us  indoors.  In  fact  it  would  have  taken  a  fairly  hard  rain 
to  have  made  us  sleep  in  the  house.  Our  one  desire  this  morning 
was  to  get  off  as  early  as  possible,  but  during  the  night  we  lost  our 
mules  and  by  seven  o’clock  only  two  had  been  seen  and  these  could 
not  be  caught,  as  all  the  ropes  were  broken.  It  took  considerable 
philosophy  to  wait  patiently  until  the  missing  mules  could  be  found 
and  saddled.  For  a  time  it  looked  as  though  we  were  destined  to 
stay  in  the  smallpox  village  for  several  days.  The  missing  mules 
were  found  about  eleven  o’clock. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  village  we  crossed  the  river  Chire,  a  rapid 
stream  of  fine,  clear  water,  flowing  over  a  rocky  bed.  About  noon  I 


EL  LIMBO  TO  PORE 


I57 


saw  a  mirage  to  the  east  that  appeared  to  give  an  inverted  image, 
not  very  distinctly  but  still  sufficiently  marked  to  be  noted  as  differ¬ 
ent  from  any  seen  before.  The  usual  form  of  mirage  on  the  plains 
has  been  a  raising  of  the  trees  from  the  ground  so  as  to  make  it  appear 
as  though  there  was  a  pond  or  lake  between  the  observer  and  the 
horizon. 

We  saw  several  bushes  of  lantana  but  all  of  the  thornless  variety. 
The  plants  were  quite  small,  not  over  two  feet  high,  and  widely 
scattered.  Lantana  does  not  flourish  here  as  it  does  in  the  Hawaiian 
Islands. 


Westward  from  Chire. 


The  foot-hills  we  passed,  although  rising  abruptly  from  the  plain 
and  attaining  a  height  of  five  to  six  hundred  feet,  seemed  to  be  com¬ 
posed  almost  entirely  of  pebbles  and  small  well-rounded  boulders 
partly  covered  with  a  little  soil  and  some  grass.  One  isolated  hill  lay 
on  the  left  of  the  road  between  us  and  the  plains.  They  are  not  dis¬ 
sected  by  erosion  to  any  extent.  The  angle  of  the  slope  is  just  about 
as  great  as  round  stones  will  stand,  yet  there  are  very  few  boulders 
on  the  plains  that  appear  to  have  rolled  down  from  the  hills.  The 
largest  pebble  or  boulder  that  we  saw  was  not  over  three  feet  in  its 
greatest  diameter.  So  far  as  we  can  judge  the  second  range  of  foot- 


COLOMBIA 


158 

hills  appears  to  be  of  entirely  different  construction  and  bears  marks 
of  being  considerably  eroded,  but  we  could  not  see  of  what  it  was 
composed.  The  banks  of  the  streams  which  we  crossed  show  pebbles 
lying  in  layers  under  two  feet  of  soil.  We  saw  no  ledges  or  large 
rocks. 

The  road  is  well  travelled.  We  were  passed  today  by  a  man 
and  a  boy  with  a  string  of  five  mules  going  to  the  annual  fair  at  Pore. 
The  mules  were  of  fair  size,  but  not  attractive.  The  owner  asked 
eighty  dollars  apiece  for  them,  but  we  thought  they  were  not  worth 
more  than  forty  dollars.  We  may  have  to  buy  them  to  take  our  outfit 
over  the  mountains.  We  met  several  small  herds  of  oxen  laden  with 
coffee,  each  ox  carrying  two  bags  covered  with  a  stiff  hide  to  keep  off 
the  rain.  Generally  one  man  was  in  charge  of  every  three  oxen. 
The  people  whom  we  met  said  “  Buenos  Dias”  with  great  care  in  the 
pronunciation  and  quite  markedly  unlike  those  we  met  near  Arauca 
who  said  “  Buen  Dia.” 

This  afternoon  we  reached  the  river  Ariporo,  which  has  cut  its 
way  through  the  middle  of  a  large  hill  composed  of  pebbles.  The 
river  has  a  flood  plain  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide  at  this  point,  and 
embraces  many  islands.  The  course  of  the  river  is  changing  rapidly 
and  a  new  path  has  recently  been  cut  through  the  woods  on  one  of 
the  larger  islands.  One  branch  of  the  river  is  three  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  wide.  At  present  the  current  is  not  over  three  feet  deep, 
but  is  so  rapid,  and  the  bottom  is  so  rocky,  the  animals  were  frightened 
and  did  not  like  the  ford  at  all.  As  we  are  near  the  hills  it  is  not 
surprising  that  the  Ariporo  at  this  point  should  resemble  the 
Guanare  and  the  Santo  Domingo  rather  than  the  Casanare  or  the 
Bocono. 

Our  trail  today  contained  more  charming  views  than  any  we  have 
seen  since  leaving  Carabobo  and  the  falls  of  Tinaco.  At  times  the 
path  would  unexpectedly  plunge  down  into  a  densely  wooded  ravine 
and  wind  up  again  through'  the  trees  on  the  opposite  side,  to  pass 
over  small  savannas  that  slope  gently  down  for  a  couple  of  miles  to 
the  great  plains  on  the  left,  and  on  the  right  end  abruptly  at  the  foot 
of  the  well-rounded  hills.  On  the  distant  plains  we  occasionally  saw 
a  ranch  or  two.  With  the  horizon  clear,  our  view  over  the  Llanos 
would  have  been  very  extensive,  but  there  seems  to  be  a  fine  dust  in 


EL  LIMBO  TO  PORE 


159 


the  air  that  prevents  the  atmosphere  from  being  pellucid.  The  stars 
are  not  very  bright,  even  on  cloudless  nights. 

Shortly  before  six  the  road  climbed  a  slight  hill  or  terrace,  and  we 
came  upon  one  of  the  most  magnificent  views  that  I  have  ever  seen. 
Before  us  lay  the  beautiful  terraced  valley  of  the  upper  Ariporo, 
ranging  in  colour  from  dark  green  to  light  blue  in  the  dim  distance. 
The  sun  was  setting  at  the  head  of  the  valley.  The  high  Andes  of 
Cocui  were  visible  above  the  clouds  to  the  northwest,  and  with  the 
glasses  we  could  make  out  three  glaciers  glistening  in  the  evening 
light.  Two  were  on  the  south  side  of  one  peak,  and  another,  the 
largest,  on  the  south  side  of  another  peak.  It  was  a  romantic  view 
of  the  great  Andes,  the  like  of  which  we  were  not  likely  to  see 
again. 

We  picked  up  here  a  few  large  white  land  shells  four  inches  long, 
like  those  found  on  the  battle-field  of  Carabobo  ( Bulimus  oblongus). 

We  rode  into  Moreno  about  half-past  six  and  were  very  kindly 
received.  The  citizens  had  heard  that  we  were  coming  and  made 
us  as  comfortable  as  possible  at  the  posada.  All  the  local  dignitaries 
except  the  alcalde,  who  has  gone  to  Pore,  called  on  us.  The  alcalde 
left  orders  with  a  very  intelligent  person  to  provide  for  our  necessities 
in  accordance  with  instructions  received  from  Bogota.  There  was 
little  for  him  to  do,  but  our  reception  was  a  very  pleasant  contrast 
to  what  we  have  had  during  the  past  three  days. 

We  learn  that  Pore  is  the  end  of  the  government  telegraph  wire 
and  that  its  annual  fair  is  in  progress,  so  we  are  anxious  to  reach  it 
tomorrow.  The  local  dignitaries  tried  their  best  to  persuade  us  to 
stay  here  for  several  days,  dispose  of  our  oxen  and  buy  mules  for  our 
journey  across  the  Andes,  telling  us  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  had 
at  Pore.  We  hear,  however,  from  Juan,  and  also  from  a  traveller  at 
the  inn,  that  Pore  has  more  shops  than  Moreno;  which  would  not  be 
strange,  as  Moreno  has  only  two. 

March  20th.  Moreno  was  once  a  place  of  considerable  impor¬ 
tance.  The  ruins  of  the  town  do  not  compare  with  those  of  Barinas, 
Guanare,  or  San  Carlos,  but  still  they  are  interesting  and  give  one  some 
idea  of  its  former  size.  Practically  all  of  the  principal  buildings  that 
once  graced  the  plaza,  including  the  church  and  the  Government 
buildings,  are  totally  in  ruins.  Moreno  has  a  cemetery,  the  first  seen 


i6o 


COLOMBIA 


in  many  weeks,  enclosed  with  an  adobe  wall.  The  only  monuments 
are  wooden  crosses  of  various  heights,  mostly  rather  slim  and  eight 
or  ten  feet  high. 

The  innkeeper  was  much  disappointed  this  morning  that  we 
were  unable  to  pay  her  in  paper.  She  would  not  accept  gold  as  she 
“could  not  change  it”  and  Venezuelan  silver  seems  to  be  no  longer 
desirable. 

The  posada  was  actually  clean,  but  we  have  slept  out  of  doors  so 
much  of  late  that  I  had  my  cot  placed  in  the  courtyard,  only  to  be 
aroused  in  the  middle  of  the  night  by  a  shower.  We  seem  to  be 
following  the  rain  in  its  career  to  the  southwards,  as  at  each  place 
we  are  told  it  is  the  first  rain  of  the  season.  This  morning  we  had 
more  showers. 

Leaving  Moreno  at  ten,  we  reached  the  village  of  Brito  at  noon. 
It  has  about  twenty  houses  scattered  along  both  sides  of  a  single 
street.  The  clay  near  here  has  a  reddish  tinge  and  some  of  the  houses 
have  pink  adobe  walls.  On  the  fences  we  saw  rude  crosses.  Prac¬ 
tically  all  the  inhabitants  of  Brito  had  gone  to  the  fair  at  Pore  and 
the  houses  and  yards  were  closed.  One  gate,  however,  was  open, 
and  our  tired  oxen  suddenly  turned  in  and  sought  the  shade  of  a 
grove  of  plantain  trees,  greatly  frightening  the  woman  and  girl  who 
were  in  the  house,  the  only  inhabitants  left  in  the  village.  After 
knocking  down  a  few  trees  with  their  loads  and  walking  through  one 
end  of  the  hut,  the  wayward  oxen  were  brought  back  on  the  road 
and  started  on  the  last  stretch  to  Pore. 

On  the  road  we  met  the  alcalde  of  Moreno  with  two  of  his  friends, 
one  of  them  the  Secretary  of  the  Province.  They  were  very  cordial 
and  gave  us  a  hearty  welcome  to  this  part  of  Colombia.  The  alcalde 
told  us  that  he  had  received  orders  from  the  President  to  do  every¬ 
thing  in  his  power  for  us  and  regretted  that  he  had  not  been  in  Moreno 
on  our  arrival. 

During  the  afternoon  we  met  numbers  of  men  and  women 
returning  from  the  fair.  We  saw  in  the  distance  two  or  three  small 
villages  that  appeared  to  lie  on  the  edge  of  the  plains,  where  the 
gentle  three-mile  slope  from  the  foot-hills  ends.  The  hills  on  our 
right  this  afternoon,  like  those  yesterday,  are  apparently  of  pebbles 
or  small  boulders,  and  about  five  hundred  feet  in  height. 


EL  LIMBO  TO  PORE 


161 


The  heat  has  been  very  oppressive  for  the  last  two  or  three  days, 
even  more  so  than  on  the  lower  plains.  The  wind  is  very  hot  and  con¬ 
tinues  to  blow  from  the  northwest. 

We  have  passed  a  dead  giant  ant-eater,  but  have  seen  no  live  ones. 
For  two  or  three  days  past  we  have  heard  the  song  of  skylarks 
resembling  those  heard  in  the  Hawaiian  Islands.  We  have  seen 
no  horned  screamers  since  crossing  the  Totumito  River. 

About  half-past  five  we  saw  the  red-tiled  roofs  of  Pore  in  the  dis¬ 
tance  and  a  long  line  of  telegraph  poles  stretching  eastward  towards 
the  Meta  River.  Half  an  hour  later  we  entered  the  little  town  and 
finished  the  second  part  of  our  journey.  The  first  part  ended  with 
the  cart  at  El  Amparo  and  the  second  ends  here  with  the  oxen  who, 
born  and  reared  on  the  plains,  are  not  equal  to  the  task  of  climbing 
the  hills  and  crossing  the  Andes  with  their  loads.  Two  of  the  oxen 
have  stood  the  two  hundred  miles  very  well.  One  is  almost  played 
out  and  the  fourth  looks  as  though  he  might  drop  dead  at  any  moment. 

We  found  Pore  in  the  throes  of  the  fair.  Fully  half  the  men 
appeared  to  be  under  the  genial  influence  of  wine,  beer,  or  hard  liquor. 
Our  coming  had  been  announced  by  travellers  who,  riding  more 
rapidly  than  we,  had  passed  us  during  the  day.  We  received  a  noisy 
welcome.  The  best  house  in  the  place,  a  new  adobe  structure  with 
a  red-tiled  roof,  had  been  ostentatiously  swept  out  and  was  placed  at 
our  disposal.  A  finely  built  Syrian  of  almost  gigantic  proportions, 
with  black  hair  and  beard,  wearing  heavy  boots  and  well-made 
clothes,  acted  as  master  of  ceremonies,  and  seemed  to  be  the  most 
popular  person  in  the  crowd.  He  came  forward  at  once  with  a  bottle 
of  fiery  spirits  of  which  we  had  to  partake  on  very  empty  stomachs, 
as  we  had  had  nothing  to  eat  since  early  morning.  A  few  minutes 
later  the  genial  Prefect  of  the  Province  of  Casanare,  Don  Miguel 
Gonzalez  Alvarez,  a  fine  old  patriarch  with  a  long  flowing  beard, 
appeared,  to  welcome  us  in  the  name  of  the  Colombian  Government. 
He  said  he  had  recently  received  two  telegrams  from  President  Reyes 
instructing  him  to  do  everything  for  our  comfort,  and  he  placed 
himself  entirely  at  our  service. 

Our  first  duty  was  to  visit  the  telegraph  office  where  as  soon  as 
possible  we  sent  off  a  cable  to  New  York  announcing  our  safe  arrival. 
The  operator  was  pretty  well  under  the  influence  of  the  fair,  and  the 


162 


COLOMBIA 


instruments  did  not  seem  to  be  very  lively,  but  the  message  was  finally 
sent  off.  This  is  the  first  time  that  we  have  been  in  direct  telegraphic 
communication  with  the  rest  of  the  world  since  we  left  Curasao, 
nearly  four  months  ago.  It  seems  strange  to  be  more  closely  in  touch 
with  the  world  off  here  in  eastern  Colombia  than  when  we  were  in 
Caracas. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Pore 

March  31  st.  Pore  is  crowded  with  people  to  its  utmost  capacity, 
and  we  had  considerable  difficulty  in  getting  any  supper  last  evening. 
A  crazy  band,  imported  for  the  fair,  and  several  score  of  drunks  made 
the  night  hideous,  but  we  were  so  sleepy  that  even  the  bats  did  not 
annoy  us.  It  rained  in  the  night  and  still  more  during  the  morning, 
part  of  the  time  quite  hard.  This  is  again  “the  first  rain  of  the  sea¬ 
son,”  which  we  seem  to  have  picked  up  and  carried  along  southward 
from  place  to  place. 

Soon  after  breakfast  Rice  was  called  to  attend  an  acute  case  of 
appendicitis.  The  patient  had  been  very  drunk  last  evening  and  we 
had  seen  him  riding  recklessly  about  on  his  mule.  We  had  a  hard 
time  nursing  him  in  the  room  where  he  was  ill,  a  dark,  smelly  affair, 
part  drinking  room  and  part  sleeping,  where  a  dozen  of  the  visitors 
to  the  fair  had  been  accommodated  during  the  night.  The  crowd 
was  extremely  curious  but  not  at  all  anxious  to  help  in  performing 
the  necessary  duties  for  their  sick  friend.  We  finally  got  them  all 
out.  The  primitive  cook  house  in  another  part  of  the  establishment 
was  pressed  into  service  for  boiling  water,  but  it  was  with  difficulty 
that  we  got  enough  for  the  doctor’s  needs.  Every  one  supposed  that 
the  man  was  going  to  die,  but  Rice  pulled  him  through  without 
operating. 

The  doctor’s  success  in  this  case  gave  him  such  a  reputation  that 
he  had  a  continuous  run  of  patients  all  day  long.  Skin  diseases, 
smallpox,  stricture,  stomach  disorders,  partial  blindness,  obesity, 
partial  deafness,  badly  set  fractures,  and  other  troubles,  serious  and 
imaginary,  have  been  brought  to  our  room  for  treatment.  The  free 
“dispensary”  is  so  popular  that  several  well-known  malingerers  have 
been  attracted  to  it,  much  to  their  discomfiture,  for  Rice  ridiculed 
them  unmercifully,  much  to  the  joy  of  the  spectators. 

163 


164 


COLOMBIA 


In  the  course  of  the  morning  Juan  came  to  say  that  he  desired  to 
go  back  to  Arauca  and  would  like  to  be  paid  off.  This  is  as  far  as 
he  agreed  to  come.  I  went  to  the  Prefect  and  told  him  the  story  of 
our  various  losses,  and  he  promised  to  have  Juan  arrested  and 
searched.  Our  guide  is  such  a  well-known  desperado  that  at  first 
no  one  dared  to  arrest  him,  but  finally  four  strong  men  were  found 
who  were  willing  to  escort  him  into  a  room  adjoining  the  principal 
store,  which  was  owned  by  the  local  alcalde.  After  some  struggles 
he  was  searched  and  in  his  belt  was  found  Rice’s  missing  heirloom, 
the  gold  chain  with  the  American  gold  eagle.  This  was  all  the  evi¬ 
dence  needed  to  convict  him,  and  he  was  sent  to  the  stocks  in  the  old 
Spanish  jail  here.  The  two  gold  ounces  which  were  stolen  from  me 
in  Arauca  were  not  found,  which  is  not  surprising  as  he  had  an 
opportunity  to  leave  them  with  his  family.  The  Prefect  offers  to 
punish  him  in  any  way  that  we  desire,  but  he  has  been  such  an  excel¬ 
lent  guide  and  done  his  work  so  well  that  we  are  willing  to  forgive 
him  his  kleptomania,  charge  up  the  gold  ounces  to  his  wages,  and  call 
it  square.  In  many  ways  he  has  won  our  admiration,  for  he  is  cer¬ 
tainly  one  of  the  cleverest  persons  in  the  country.  To  see  him  strip 
and  wade  into  the  lagoons  on  the  Llanos  in  order  to  find  a  way  for 
the  caravan  to  cross,  having  no  fear  of  the  small  alligators  that  infest 
those  waters,  was  enough  to  make  one  realize  his  courage.  The  only 
thing  he  really  fears  are  the  wild  Indians,  whose  nature  he  knows 
only  too  well,  as  he  is  of  Indian  blood  himself.  He  took  his  arrest 
very  philosophically,  although  it  seemed  to  annoy  him  to  think  that 
he  came  so  far  with  us  after  having  secured  his  booty. 

During  the  day  there  have  been  several  cock-fights  pulled  off  near 
our  door,  on  which  some  money  has  been  wagered  and  considerable 
excitement  wasted.  A  dance  hall  across  the  street  is  doing  a  big 
business.  There  are  a  great  many  temporary  grog  shops  and  nearly 
every  one  is  more  or  less  under  the  influence  of  liquor.  A  score  of 
street  pedlers  are  doing  a  small  business  with  various  trinkets  and 
articles  of  apparel.  I  tried  to  buy  a  red  “  imitation  silk”  handkerchief 
for  twenty-five  dollars.  The  pedlers  did  not  care  to  take  Venezuelan 
silver,  so  I  offered  a  Colombian  gold  ounce,  but  even  that  was 
declined,  the  pedlers  not  desiring  anything  but  paper  money.  Finally 
our  friend,  the  big  Syrian  contractor,  succeeded  in  changing  the  gold 


PORE 


165 


into  bills.  He  tells  us  every  one  prefers  American  gold  to  any  other 
kind.  English  gold  is  next  in  demand,  followed  by  Spanish  or 
Mexican.  Their  own  Colombian  gold  pieces  are  least  valuable  of  all. 
The  height  of  the  fair  is  over,  and  the  excitement  closes  this  evening 
with  a  free  circus  on  the  plaza. 

We  tried  today  to  sell  our  oxen  and  buy  some  mules,  but  quite 
unsuccessfully.  It  is  said  that  two  of  our  oxen  are  about  to  die  and 
no  one  wants  to  buy  the  other  two.  The  mules  that  passed  us  the 
other  day  on  the  road  are  offered  for  sale  now  at  sixty  dollars,  but  as  it 
will  take  at  least  five  to  carry  our  stuff  over  the  mountains,  we  are 
not  anxious  to  purchase  them. 

Although  one  hears  much  of  the  activity  of  the  Germans  in  South 
America  we  have  seen  no  German  merchants  since  leaving  Tinaco 
in  northern  Venezuela.  Many  of  the  merchants  in  the  interior  on 
the  rivers  Apure  and  Arauca  are  Syrians,  but  the  majority  are 
mestizos,  Venezuelans  and  Colombians. 

March  22 d.  Much  rain  fell  during  the  night  and  it  has  rained 
all  day  more  or  less.  The  appendicitis  patient  is  improving  slowly, 
though  Rice  thought  he  would  surely  die  last  night. 

A  hundred  years  ago  Pore  was  quite  an  important  town,  but  now 
the  ancient  church  is  in  ruins  and  the  two-story  houses  which  formerly 
surrounded  the  plaza  have  all  disappeared.  We  explored  the  ruins 
this  morning.  The  church  was  about  one  hundred  and  twenty-five 
feet  long,  but  very  little  of  it  now  remains.  Heaps  of  rubbish  and 
hummocks  overgrown  with  bushes  and  small  trees  indicate  where 
houses  once  stood. 

The  old  Spanish  jail  is  still  standing,  having  been  well  built  of 
hewn  stone.  We  visited  the  cell  where  Juan  spent  last  night.  It  has 
a  small  door,  not  quite  four  feet  high,  at  one  end  and  a  barred  window 
at  the  other.  There  is  no  jailer  and  there  are  no  locks  to  the  doors, 
so  that  the  only  way  of  confining  a  prisoner  is  by  the  old  Spanish 
stocks.  These  consist  of  two  pieces  of  heavy  timber  twelve  feet  long, 
with  holes  for  half  a  dozen  pairs  of  legs  and  a  device  for  locking  the 
ends  so  that  the  poor  wretches  could  not  escape.  One  can  lie  on  the 
ground  in  comparative  comfort  while  one’s  legs  are  confined  in  these 
old  stocks,  but  to  stand  is  impossible,  and  to  sit,  not  very  comfortable. 
The  holes  have  been  worn  smooth  and  polished  by  the  ankles  of  count- 


COLOMBIA 


1 66 

less  unfortunates  who  have  been  detained  here  during  the  past  cen¬ 
tury.  The  jail  has  no  other  furniture.  The  Prefect  decided  today 
to  send  Juan  back  to  Arauca  in  charge  of  a  deputy  sheriff.  I  am  glad 
he  did  not  have  to  stay  long  in  this  old  jail,  where  thousands  of  bats 
have  been  holding  high  carnival  since  time  immemorial  and  have 
made  the  floor  unspeakably  disgusting. 


Spanish  Stocks  in  the  Jail  at  Pore. 

On  one  corner  of  the  deserted  plaza  is  a  forlorn-looking  church 
of  recent  construction.  It  is  a  narrow  oblong  building  with  no  tower 
and  is  already  in  a  dreadful  state  of  decay.  Services  are  held  very 
infrequently.  The  roof  leaks  and  a  great  colony  of  bats  is  in  full 
possession  of  the  premises.  The  shrines  are  neglected  and  the  un¬ 
fortunate  saints  whose  images  inhabit  the  solitude  appeal  strongly 
to  one’s  sympathy.  On  another  corner  is  an  old  building,  partly 
restored  to  serve  as  the  Government  telegraph  office.  In  general 
all  that  remains  of  Pore  is  one  long  street  and  three  cross  streets  con¬ 
taining  in  all  not  more  than  fifty  houses,  most  of  them  adobe  with 
thatched  roofs.  From  the  plaza  one  gets  a  fine  view  of  the  distant 
mountains  and  of  the  great  plains  stretching  away  to  the  eastward. 


PORE 


167 


Last  evening,  on  the  plaza  in  front  of  the  church,  we  witnessed  a 
primitive  circus,  consisting  of  a  fifth-rate  clown  and  a  very  unskilful 
acrobat  who  performed  a  few  evolutions  on  a  shaky  trapeze  erected 
for  the  occasion.  Before  the  entertainment,  the  clown,  whose  antics 
were  not  particularly  refined,  riding  the  most  wretched  steed  that 
could  be  found  and  accompanied  by  the  extraordinary  band  that  is  in 
attendance  on  the  fair,  marched  around  the  town,  greatly  to  every¬ 
body’s  delight. 


The  Plaza  of  Pore. 


Today  nearly  everybody  has  gone.  The  fair  seems  to  be  planned 
for  the  end  of  the  dry  season  and  is  an  annual  event  looked  forward  to 
with  much  pleasure  by  the  entire  country  for  fifty  miles  around. 

Jose  Antonio  Levar,  the  naturalized  Syrian  who  has  taken  a  fancy 
to  us  since  our  arrival,  today  took  the  contract  to  convey  our  stuff  to 
the  end  of  the  little  railway  near  Bogota.  As  long  as  any  of  his 
friends  remained  in  Pore,  or  there  was  any  chance  for  the  local  dig¬ 
nitaries  to  sell  us  their  mules,  the  worthy  Syrian  insisted  that  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  do  anything  at  all  for  us,  as  all  his  mules  “were 
required  in  the  business  of  taking  coffee  to  Puerto  San  Salvador.” 
When  he  found  that  there  was  no  longer  any  danger  of  interfering 
with  the  business  of  his  Colombian  political  friends,  he  agreed  to 
furnish  us  with  five  strong  pack-mules  and  a  good  arriero  or  muleteer, 


COLOMBIA 


1 68 

and  send  them  with  us  by  way  of  the  famous,  or  rather  infamous, 
Paramo  of  Pisva,  the  pass  by  which  Bolivar  crossed  the  mountains. 
The  price  is  two  hundred  dollars,  gold,  but  he  agrees  to  take  our 
four  oxen  in  part  payment  at  twenty  dollars  a  head,  although  he 
declares  that  two  of  them  are  going  to  die  tomorrow.  He  left  this 
afternoon  to  get  the  mules  and  we  hope  to  start  tomorrow. 

In  the  evening  we  had  a  long  historical  discussion  with  the  Prefect. 
In  1818,  during  the  Wars  of  Emancipation,  the  Spanish  army  under 
General  Barreiro  invaded  this  region.  The  patriots  had  been  sub¬ 
dued  throughout  Colombia  except  in  the  Llanos  of  Casanare.  When 
the  Spanish  army  reached  Pore,  all  the  inhabitants  disappeared,  and 
Barreiro  was  practically  starved  out  of  the  plains.  These  people, 
as  we  have  seen,  live  from  hand  to  mouth  and  apparently  never  store 
up  any  food,  so  that  it  must  have  been  comparatively  easy  to  defeat 
the  Spanish  general  in  this  manner.  It  was  probably  almost  impos¬ 
sible  for  him  to  keep  his  army  provided  with  food  from  the  plateau  of 
Sogamoso  for  any  length  of  time. 

March  23c?.  More  rain  in  the  night  and  this  morning.  Rice 
continues  to  have  large  “practice”  and  is  kept  busy  performing  minor 
operations,  chiefly  for  stricture.  Nevertheless  Pore  is  gradually 
settling  down  into  that  condition  of  absolute  quiet  and  dullness  which 
it  enjoys  during  the  three  hundred  and  sixty  days  of  each  year  when 
the  fair  is  not  in  progress.  Our  friend  the  Prefect  underwent  a 
minor  operation  yesterday  and  is  not  feeling  well  today.  The  appen¬ 
dicitis  patient  is  much  better.  The  Syrian  contractor  failed  to  put 
in  an  appearance  with  the  mules  and  we  have  lost  another  day. 

A  former  member  of  the  National  Congress  who  has  been  several 
times  to  Bogota  gives  us  the  following  itinerary:  —  “From  here  to 
Nunchia,  one  or  two  days;  thence  to  Labranza  Grande,  two  days  of 
bad  road  (for  “road”  read  bridle  path),  rest  one  day  in  Labranza 
Grande;  thence  to  La  Salina,  one  day;  to  Mongua  one  day;  to  Soga¬ 
moso  half  a  day;  rest  there  one  day;  thence  to  Rio  Piedras  one  day; 
to  Tunja  half  a  day;  to  Cascada  one  day;  to  Choconta  one  day;  to 
Zipaquira  one  day;  thence  by  train  three  hours  to  Bogota.  Twelve 
or  thirteen  days  in  all.”  But  this  is  not  the  way  Bolivar’s  army  went 
and  our  route  will  probably  take  longer,  how  much  longer  no  one 
seems  to  know,  as  nobody  in  this  vicinity  has  ever  passed  over  the 


PORE 


169 


dangerous  and  unfrequented  Paramo  of  Pisva.  Considering  the 
fact  that  we  planned  to  be  in  Bogota  in  fifty-four  days  from  the  time 
we  left  Carabobo,  and  it  is  now  the  sixty-second  day  since  we  left 
that  battle-field,  it  is  annoying  to  learn  that  Bogota  is  twelve  days  off 
even  for  those  who  travel  with  less  of  a  cargo  than  we  and  who  go  the 
customary  road  via  Labranza  Grande. 

March  24 th.  No  mules.  We  are  getting  tired  of  Pore.  The 
Prefect  feels  pretty  badly  this  morning,  and  asked  the  doctor  to  call 
on  him  early.  He  recovered  sufficiently,  however,  to  show  us  a  copy 
of  the  Diario  Oficial  of  January  28th  which  contains  an  executive 
decree  published  over  the  signature  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury 
granting  to  “ Doctors  Hiram  Blingham  and  Hamilton ”  the  privilege 
of  entering  the  country  with  their  scientific  outfit,  duty  free.  The 
only  condition  imposed  is  that  we  must  not  stay  in  the  country  longer 
than  is  necessary  for  our  mission  and  must  take  with  us  out  of  the 
country  all  our  outfit  except  foodstuffs.  It  is  certainly  very  kind  of 
the  Colombian  Government  to  take  so  much  trouble  on  our  behalf 
and  to  do  everything  to  make  it  easy  for  us,  —  even  though  our  new 
patronymics  make  identification  difficult.  It  is  not  strange  that  the 
officials  should  suppose  that  Rice  followed  the  Spanish  custom  of 
writing  his  mother’s  family  name  after  that  of  his  father. 

It  rained  hard  again  this  afternoon.  This  daily  downpour  helps 
us  to  realize  what  we  escaped  by  crossing  the  Llanos  in  the  dry  season. 
Had  we  not  succeeded  in  getting  over  the  worst  of  the  rivers  and 
swamps  before  the  rains  commenced,  it  would  have  been  next  to 
impossible  to  get  our  outfit  across  country.  Our  experiences  at  the 
Cano  Guata  might  have  been  multiplied  indefinitely. 

In  one  of  our  rooms  here  is  a  large  case  said  to  contain  a  piano 
from  Hamburg  awaiting  shipment  to  Moreno,  where  lives  the  richest 
man  in  the  country.  It  is  said  to  have  cost  him  ten  thousand  dollars, 
gold,  and  came  by  way  of  the  Orinoco  and  Meta  rivers.  There  are 
no  carts  here  and  we  cannot  help  wondering  when  it  will  reach  its 
destination  —  and  who  will  tune  it  when  it  arrives. 

March  25 th.  No  mules  yet.  We  fear  that  our  contractor  has 
heard  of  the  Prefect’s  illness  and  is  purposely  delaying  returning  with 
the  mules.  He  must  realize  that  when  they  come  the  doctor  will 
leave  and  the  Prefect  will  not  be  pleased.  The  Prefect  is  convalescing 


COLOMBIA 


170 

but  still  keeps  to  his  cot  and  sends  for  the  doctor  frequently.  He  says 
today  that  if  the  Syrian  does  not  return  by  evening  he  will  “send  a 
special  messenger  after  him  and  see  why  under  the  sun  he  is  delaying 
us  so  long.”  In  other  words,  the  Prefect  is  feeling  better.  The  dis¬ 
pensary  is  not  so  well  attended  as  it  has  been,  but  Rice  is  not  sorry 
for  there  are  few  interesting  cases  and  most  of  the  patients  come 
merely  for  the  fun  of  being  given  advice  free. 

We  have  had  some  rain  before,  but  last  night  the  heavens  broke 
loose  and  smashed  all  records  with  a  terrific  downpour  and  a  tre¬ 
mendous  amount  of  thunder  and  lightning.  I  do  not  remember  ever 
to  have  seen  it  rain  so  hard,  except  once  in  the  Hawaiian  Islands, 
when  I  was  staying  in  Hanalei  on  the  Island  of  Kauai,  where  it  is  said 
that  “rain  drops  are  as  big  as  peaches.”  When  we  leave  here  we 
will  have  to  cross  the  Pauta  River,  a  wide,  rocky  stream  with  a  danger¬ 
ous  current.  Many  people  have  been  lost  in  attempting  to  ford  it  in 
the  rainy  season,  and  loaded  mules  are  frequently  lost  in  the  rapids. 
Perhaps  it  is  just  as  well  that  the  mules  have  not  yet  arrived,  for  it 
may  be  impossible  to  cross  the  river  for  a  day  or  two  after  these  rains. 

In  our  journey  across  the  Llanos  we  have  talked  with  a  number  of 
intelligent  persons,  and  all  agree  that  the  seasons  are  about  as  follows: 
The  dry  months  are  December,  January,  and  February,  when  no 
rain  falls  at  all.  The  rains  commence  in  the  latter  part  of  March, 
increase  through  April  and  are  very  heavy  in  May,  June,  and  July. 
There  is  a  let-up  in  August,  so  that  August,  while  not  dry,  is  more  like 
April,  but  in  September  the  rains  return  in  full  force  and  continue  so 
in  October,  diminishing  rapidly  in  November  and  stopping  entirely 
about  the  first  of  December. 

March  26 th.  The  Prefect  is  feeling  very  much  better  and  sent 
off  a  messenger  this  morning  to  find  the  Syrian  and  his  mules.  The 
contractor  could  not  have  been  very  far  away,  for  he  appeared  in  less 
than  four  hours  after  the  messenger  was  sent. 

This  afternoon  an  Italian  who  owns  the  house  in  which  we  are 
staying  brought  his  daughter  for  the  doctor  to  see.  She  has  a  crooked 
finger  and  Rice  offered  to  straighten  it  out.  She  is  to  decide  tomorrow 
whether  she  cares  to  stand  the  pain  and  it  looks  as  though  we  might 
be  detained  another  day.  The  town  of  Pore  is  growing  more  and 
more  tiresome,  but  we  changed  our  boarding  place  today  and  here- 


PORE 


171 

after  are  to  be  the  guests  of  the  Italian,  a  nice  old  man  who  has  lived 
in  the  country  for  over  thirty  years  and  looks  like  a  Spaniard.  He  is 
quite  the  richest  man  in  the  town  and  the  only  one  able  to  change  our 
gold  into  paper  money. 

Whoever  would  have  supposed  that  we  were  going  to  spend  a 
week  at  Pore! 

March  27 th.  This  morning  Rice  straightened  out  the  lady’s 
finger.  Then  our  luggage,  which  had  been  in  four  loads,  was  re¬ 
arranged  for  the  five  mules.  It  was  a  slow  process  and  three  o’clock 
came  before  the  mules  were  loaded.  Just  as  we  were  ready  to  start, 
a  terrific  thunder-storm  burst  upon  us.  Rain  fell  in  torrents  and  we 
had  all  we  could  do  to  get  the  mules  and  the  stuff  under  cover.  The 
thermometer  fell  twelve  degrees  in  fifteen  minutes,  from  84°  F.  to 
720  F. 

This  evening  the  sky  is  clear  for  the  first  time  since  our  arrival. 
The  Prefect  called  with  his  nephew,  Don  Sylvestre  Arenas,  one  of  the 
richest  and  most  popular  young  men  in  the  Province  of  Casanare. 
Tall,  square-shouldered,  straight  as  a  ramrod,  with  a  handsome  face 
and  pleasing  manner,  he  is  quite  a  contrast  to  most  of  the  rather 
slovenly  people  we  have  seen  recently.  He  was  a  general  in  the 
Revolution  of  three  years  ago,  fighting  on  the  opposite  side  from  his 
uncle,  whom  he  defeated  in  battle  and  took  prisoner.  Owing  to  his 
position  he  was  able  to  prevent  the  old  man  from  spending  more  than 
three  days  in  the  awful  old  Pore  jail.  He  is  a  radical  or  liberal, 
although  he  comes  of  an  old  family,  while  his  uncle  is  a  conservative 
or  goto.  He  has  heard  of  Rice’s  skill  as  a  physician  and  comes  to 
invite  us  to  visit  Desecho,  his  ranch,  on  our  way  to  Nunchia.  It 
seems  that  he  has  two  brothers  who  are  ill  and  need  medical  attend¬ 
ance.  Since  Bolivar’s  time  a  new  road  has  been  built  to  Nunchia, 
but  the  Liberating  Army  marched  by  way  of  Desecho,  which  is  now 
Don  Sylvestre’s  ranch. 


CHAPTER  IX 


Pore  to  Nunchia 

March  28 th.  We  were  ready  to  start  soon  after  breakfast  this 
morning,  but  Don  Sylvestre  wished  to  send  word  ahead  in  order  that 
proper  preparations  might  be  made  for  our  reception.  He  said  it 
was  impossible  for  him  to  go  this  morning  as  he  had  “so  many  things 
to  attend  to.”  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  spent  the  morning  in  agreeable 
conversation.  We  finally  left  Pore  about  two  o’clock.  There  were 
many  thunder-showers  in  all  directions  this  afternoon,  but  we  escaped 
a  wetting.  Don  Sylvestre  and  his  uncle,  the  Prefect,  rode  with  us. 
Both  were  extremely  attentive  and  the  latter  took  particular  pleasure 
in  pointing  out  various  medicinal  plants  in  the  woods.  He  rides  a 
large  mule  that  ambles  along  like  a  camel  and  is  nearly  twice  the 
size  of  any  of  ours.  It  suits  his  dignity  wonderfully  well.  His 
servant,  a  mountain  Indian,  runs  along  on  foot,  carrying  on  his 
back  the  Prefect’s  travelling  wardrobe.  The  load  must  weigh  sixty 
pounds. 

Our  cargo  mules  are  an  interesting  lot.  Three  of  them  are  white. 
One  of  these  carries  a  load  of  two  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  but  does 
not  mind  it  in  the  least  and  has  a  trick  of  trotting  briskly  some  dis¬ 
tance  ahead,  turning  around  and  looking  at  his  companions  as  much 
as  to  say,  “What  a  slow  crowd  you  are!”  Then  he  proceeds  to  graze 
until  the  next  mule  reaches  him,  when  he  will  trot  briskly  on  again  for 
a  couple  of  hundred  yards.  Luis,  the  arriero,  runs  about  behind  his 
mules  like  a  collie  tending  sheep,  barking  and  shouting  “hoop  ato,” 
“otch  tucumbol,”  and  the  usual  muleteer’s  jargon.  The  Syrian 
contractor  places  great  confidence  in  Luis  and  assures  us  he  is  an 
excellent  muleteer  and  a  trustworthy  citizen;  “not  like  Juan.”  We 
offered  him  the  use  of  two  American  pack  saddles  that  we  had  brought 
with  us  from  New  York,  but  he  declined  with  thanks  and  prefers  the 
simple  pad  to  which  the  mules  are  accustomed.  It  requires  great 

172 


PORE  TO  NUNCHIA 


173 


experience  to  fasten  heavy  loads  securely  to  the  pad,  and  unless  the 
two  sides  are  very  evenly  matched  they  continually  need  righting. 
When  the  arriero  sees  a  load  listing  to  one  side,  he  runs  alongside 
the  mule,  throws  his  coarse  woollen  poncho  over  the  beast’s  head, 
ties  it  in  a  knot  under  his  jaw,  and  proceeds  to  adjust  the  load.  As 
the  mule  can  see  nothing  and  is  unable  to  shake  off  the  poncho  he  is 
willing  to  stand  very  quietly,  even  more  so  than  if  he  were  tied. 
Some  of  them  have  a  strip  of  cloth  fastened  across  the  forehead  in 
such  a  manner  that  it  can  readily  be  slipped  down  over  the  eyes  to 
serve  as  a  blinder  instead  of  the  poncho.  All  the  mules  have  leading 
ropes  but  these  are  almost  never  used,  and  the  well-trained  beasts  are 
allowed  to  pick  their  own  path. 

The  country  south  of  Pore  is  sparsely  wooded.  The  hills  that  one 
sees  to  the  westward  seem  to  be  forested,  in  distinction  from  the 
rather  barren  hills  of  pebbles  north  of  Pore  and  Moreno.  The 
secondary  range  continues  to  be  very  jagged,  as  though  in  process 
of  rapid  dissection.  The  streams  crossed  today  are  filled  with 
pebbles  and  boulders  and  their  sides  show  that  the  plain  is  of  a  like 
formation.  We  crossed  many  small  gulches,  mostly  dry.  The  land 
seems  to  be  the  “waste”  of  the  Andes. 

Before  long  we  reached  the  extensive  flood  plain  of  the  Pauta 
River,  with  its  gigantic  trees  and  thinly  scattered  jungle.  Suddenly, 
to  our  surprise,  we  heard  the  mimic  roar  of  the  araguatos,  or  howling 
monkeys.  Since  first  heard  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Portuguesa, 
this  has  been  a  frequent  sound  whenever  we  have  been  near  a  river 
jungle  in  the  early  morning.  This  is  the  first  time  that  we  have 
heard  it  in  the  afternoon  and  so  close.  We  soon  found  a  large  dead 
tree  in  which  were  five  or  six  of  these  interesting  howlers.  Of  a  red 
cinnamon  colour,  not  very  large,  bearded  and  having  an  appearance 
of  being  extremely  wise,  they  made  no  attempt  to  run  away  and  it 
would  have  been  quite  easy  to  shoot  one.  A  baby  monkey  on  its 
mother’s  back  added  a  touch  of  family  life  to  the  picture. 

Shortly  before  six  we  reached  the  Pauta,  a  large  stream  with  many 
islands  and  rapids.  We  crossed  it  at  the  same  stage  in  its  career  as 
the  Guanare  and  the  Ariporo.  It  has  a  strong  current  over  a  very 
rocky  bed  and  we  had  an  exciting  time  at  the  ford.  An  Indian  who 
lives  in  the  forest  near  by  came  to  our  assistance  and  led  the  Prefect’s 


i74 


COLOMBIA 


heavily  laden  servant  and  the  mules  across  one  by  one.  He  says  the 
river  was  impassable  yesterday  morning. 

We  reached  Desecho,  three  leagues  from  Pore,  at  seven  o’clock. 
A  wonderful  dinner  was  ready  for  us  and  we  did  it  full  justice. 
Although  this  is  a  most  out-of-the-way  spot,  we  had  many  delicacies, 
including  a  bottle  of  excellent  Medoc.  Desecho  is  by  far  the  best 
ranch  we  have  seen.  The  buildings  are  in  good  repair  and  kept 
clean  and  tidy.  It  is  the  first  ranch  house  we  have  encountered  that 


The  Provincial  Prefect  and  his  Nephews  at  Desecho. 


has  barred  windows  and  panelled  doors  and  shutters,  a  well-swept 
courtyard,  good  linen,  and  turkish  towels.  There  is  also  a  con¬ 
venient  bathing  place  in  a  large  irrigating  ditch  near  the  house. 
Such  luxuries  were  unheard  of  in  any  of  the  ranches  seen  in  Venezuela. 
Furthermore,  there  is  a  little  library  which  contains  forty  or  fifty 
volumes,  including  a  dozen  Spanish  classics,  some  poetry  and  history, 
a  volume  of  Schopenhauer,  a  few  works  of  travel,  and  several  treatises 
on  the  Spanish  language.  Colombians  pride  themselves  on  speaking 
the  best  Spanish  in  South  America. 


PORE  TO  NUNCHIA 


175 


March  29 th.  During  the  night  there  was  a  very  high  wind,  but 
today  is  calm  and  clear.  We  had  a  fine  bath  in  the  irrigation  canal 
this  morning.  The  ditch  was  constructed  about  twenty  years  ago 
by  the  enterprising  father  of  our  host.  Fed  by  the  Pauta  river,  it 
supplies  the  ranch  with  an  unceasing  supply  of  cool  mountain  water. 
A  great  breakfast  awaited  our  return  from  the  bath,  the  chief  delicacy 
being  a  calf’s  head  that  had  spent  the  night  cooking  slowly  in  an  old- 
fashioned  earthen  oven,  and  was  served  with  caper  sauce. 

After  Rice  had  prescribed  for  the  invalid  brothers,  one  of  whom 
is  anxious  to  be  married  in  the  near  future,  we  took  our  departure. 
Our  host  repeatedly  urged  us  to  remain,  and  the  surroundings  were 
so  extremely  pleasant  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  we  de¬ 
clined  his  invitation.  Had  we  not  lost  so  much  time  in  Pore  we  might 
have  stayed  here  a  little  longer.  We  left  Desecho  soon  after  noon 
and  passed  through  small  savannas,  scattered  groves  and  gulches. 
After  crossing  several  streams  we  turned  westward  toward  the  first 
range  of  foot-hills.  These  well-wooded  hills  are  not  of  the  pebble 
formation  seen  north  of  Pore,  but  are  of  disintegrating  volcanic  lava. 
Among  the  trees  we  noticed  a  great  deal  of  small  bamboo  like  that 
near  Carabobo,  and  also  several  “monkey  pod”  trees. 

About  two  o’clock  we  reached  a  little  thatched  hut  where  an 
Indian  came  out  to  receive  us,  bringing  a  gourd  full  of  majule,  a  kind 
of  beer  made  from  plantains.  Rice  and  I  tasted  it,  but  could  not 
swallow  the  awful  stuff,  although  the  others  in  our  party  drank 
gourds  full  of  it  with  gusto.  It  smells  like  poi,  the  Hawaiian  national 
dish,  but  is  extremely  insipid  and  had  the  flavour  of  earth. 

After  crossing  the  Cano  Muato  at  the  point  where  the  Spanish 
General  Barreiro  is  said  to  have  had  a  skirmish  with  the  patriots,  we 
began  a  very  steep  ascent.  The  hill  was  covered  with  broken  waste 
as  is  usual  with  volcanic  mountains.  The  mules  had  a  hard  time 
climbing  the  slippery  path.  Rice,  riding  the  little  blue  mule,  was 
obliged  to  dismount  as  his  animal  refused  to  carry  him.  In  places 
the  trail  was  fairly  dangerous.  A  false  step  or  a  slip  on  the  muddy 
path  would  have  caused  one  to  roll  down  the  steep  incline  several 
hundred  feet.  The  path  wound  sharply  up  the  hill  to  its  very  highest 
point  in  true  Spanish  fashion,  as  steeply  as  it  could  go.  In  places 
the  mules  had  to  jump  up  steps  two  feet  high.  It  required  good 


176 


COLOMBIA 


saddling  and  good  breeching  to  give  one  a  moderate  sense  of  security. 
We  reached  the  summit  of  the  first  range  of  foot-hills  about  three 
o’clock.  The  view  was  superb,  our  altitude  above  the  plain  being 
a  thousand  feet.  The  Llanos  of  Casanare  stretched  away  like  the 
ocean  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  As  far  as  we  could  see  with  our 
glasses  to  northeast,  east,  and  southeast,  we  could  make  out  the 
characteristic  features  of  the  Llanos,  great  grassy  plains  alternating 
with  forested  river  courses.  To  the  westward  lay  the  second  range 
of  hills,  a  beautiful  green  valley  intervening.  Both  these  ridges  run 
practically  north  and  south.  While  we  were  resting  on  the  top  of  the 
ridge,  the  Prefect,  who  accompanied  us  from  Desecho  to  Nunchia, 
recited  a  romantic  poem  which  he  had  written  some  time  ago,  inspired 
by  this  very  view.  He  is  a  fine  old  boy. 

The  second  ridge  is  not  nearly  so  steep  as  the  first,  although  several 
hundred  feet  higher.  Both  are  clearly  volcanic.  They  are  charac¬ 
terized  by  huge  irregular  blocks  of  lava  more  or  less  weathered. 
The  summits  of  several  of  the  peaks  are  formed  by  the  edges  of  strati¬ 
fied  lava  tipped  up  at  an  angle  of  thirty-five  degrees.  Erosion  is  in 
rapid  progress  and  the  disintegrating  lava  is  making  good  rich  soil. 

Two  houses  at  the  left  of  the  road  near  the  summit  were  attrac¬ 
tively  placed  in  the  midst  of  thriving  little  plantations.  A  few  speci¬ 
mens  of  night-blooming  cereus,  with  buds  about  one-quarter  size, 
were  growing  on  a  stone  wall  near  the  roadside.  From  the  top  of  the 
second  ridge  we  saw  the  Llanos  far  to  the  southward.  The  familiar 
alternating  lines  of  savanna  and  forest  continued  as  far  as  one  could 
see  anything.  The  air  was  unusually  clear.  The  view  of  the  peaks 
of  the  Andes  was  magnificent. 

The  descent  on  the  western  side  of  the  second  range  of  hills  is 
extremely  steep.  A  rocky  path  winds  through  dense  tropical  jungles. 
The  path  has  been  deeply  eroded  by  torrential  rains  so  that  one’s 
knees  are  frequently  in  danger  of  being  crushed  against  its  sides,  and 
the  cargo  mules  had  to  step  very  carefully  to  avoid  smashing  their 
loads  against  the  rocks. 

About  six  o’clock  we  came  to  a  little  opening,  a  kind  of  terrace, 
from  which  we  got  a  charming  view.  In  the  immediate  foreground 
the  hill  fell  away  very  rapidly,  almost  precipitously,  although  it  was 
not  so  steep  as  to  prevent  the  natives  from  cultivating  tiny  planta- 


PORE  TO  NUNCHIA 


177 


tions  on  its  side.  In  the  middle  foreground  lay  the  little  town  of 
Nunchia,  with  streets  running  at  right  angles,  lined  with  thatched  or 
tiled  roofed  houses  and  a  galvanized-iron  roofed  church  facing  the 
green  plaza.  Nunchia  lies  at  the  junction  of  two  rivers,  the  larger 
of  which,  the  Tocaria,  was  plainly  visible  for  some  distance.  To  the 
north  the  flat  top  of  a  ridge  showed  how  much  work  the  river  had 
done  by  erosion.  In  the  far  distance,  the  Andes  rose  tier  on  tier, 
mingling  greens  and  blues  in  a  way  that  reminded  me  repeatedly  of 
the  Hawaiian  Islands  and  of  Jamaica.  Continuing  the  steep  descent, 
we  crossed  the  river  Nunchia.  At  the  ford  it  is  about  one  hundred 
feet  wide,  and  from  two  to  three  feet  deep.  Ten  minutes  later,  after 
passing  through  little  plantations  of  sugar-cane,  mangoes,  and  plan¬ 
tains,  we  reached  the  plaza. 

It  was  the  evening  of  Good  Friday  and  a  crowd  of  about  two 
hundred  persons  were  crowded  in  front  of  the  church  as  we  rode  up. 
For  the  moment  their  attention  was  distracted  from  the  approaching 
celebration,  and  they  gathered  closely  about  us  as  we  dismounted  in 
front  of  a  well-built  house  that  had  been  placed  at  our  disposal.  A 
few  minutes  later  an  extraordinary  procession  started  from  the  church. 
First  came  three  or  four  boys  making  a  weird  and  continuous  rattle, 
called  the  death  rattle,  with  clacks.  Following  them  were  two  boys 
with  large  candles  and  a  third  carrying  a  small  cross,  then  four  more 
carrying  a  large  cross  and  others  carrying  candles.  These  were 
followed  by  six  men  carrying  a  decorated  coffin  in  which  lay  a  wax 
figure  of  the  crucified  Lord,  more  candle-bearers  and  men  carrying 
a  figure  of  the  Virgin  in  a  shrine;  followed  by  priests,  candle-bearers, 
women,  and  a  large  crowd  chanting  the  holy  service.  The  night  was 
dark,  and  the  procession  made  a  profound  impression  on  all  as  it 
moved  solemnly  around  the  plaza  and  returned  to  the  church.  It 
was  a  most  realistic  representation. 

March  30 th.  Heavy  rain  during  the  night. 

The  Prefect  called  for  us  early  this  morning  and  we  went  with 
him  to  bathe  in  the  river  Tocaria.  The  bathing  place,  much  fre¬ 
quented  by  the  townspeople,  is  a  third  of  a  mile  from  the  plaza.  The 
water  was  cool  and  invigorating.  A  fine  current  and  a  deep  swimming 
hole  made  the  bath  most  amusing.  There  is  a  conveniently  arranged 
thatched  bathing  pavilion  for  the  ladies  of  the  town  at  a  sufficient 


COLOMBIA 


178 

distance  from  the  spot  where  the  men  bathe.  The  path  from  the 
town  to  the  swimming  pools  is  well  worn. 

Bathing  is  quite  fashionable  in  Colombia.  Why  it  should  appear 
to  be  so  neglected  in  Venezuela  is  an  interesting  question.  The  first 
person  whom  we  met  in  Venezuela  who  seemed  to  be  fond  of  daily 
baths  was  Don  Francisco  Parada,  the  Colombian  at  La  Calzada  de 
Paez,  where  wre  rested  for  a  few  days  six  weeks  ago.  The  next  bather 
was  Dr.  Miguel,  a  Venezuelan,  but  born  and  raised  in  Colombia. 
At  El  Amparo  we  never  saw  any  one  bathing  on  the  Venezuelan  side 
of  the  river  except  ourselves,  although  every  morning  a  score  of 
Colombians  came  down  to  bathe  on  their  side  of  the  Arauca.  We 
noticed  in  Pore  that  several  of  our  friends  took  daily  baths,  and  at 
Desecho  the  bathing  is  made  much  of.  We  also  have  noticed  that 
while  the  upper  class  in  this  part  of  Colombia  are  more  cleanly,  better 
dressed,  better  educated,  and  more  fond  of  luxuries  than  the  same 
class  in  the  similar  regions  of  Venezuela,  the  lower  class  appears  to 
be  more  destitute,  ragged,  unkempt,  and  wretched  than  those  of  the 
same  social  rank  across  the  border. 

The  view  from  our  front  door  is  charming.  It  looks  across  the 
grassy  plaza  and  the  thatched  huts  to  the  steep  green  slopes  of  the 
secondary  range  of  foot-hills  and  the  path  over  which  we  came  on 
Friday.  The  peaks  rise  thirteen  hundred  feet  above  us. 

Nunchia  is  a  town  of  importance  and  is  the  Provincial  capital. 
It  has  two  priests,  a  blacksmith,  a  carpenter,  a  tailor,  a  shoemaker,  a 
saddle-maker,  two  telegraph  operators,  and  a  court-house,  which  is 
more  than  can  be  said  of  any  place  we  have  seen  for  two  months. 
There  are  almost  no  ruins  here  and  the  town  appears  to  be  fairly 
prosperous.  The  shops  contain  little  besides  cotton  cloth,  alcoholic 
liquors,  provisions  such  as  cassava,  plantains,  buns,  and  canned 
salmon,  and  a  few  specifics,  such  as  copaiba  oil,  for  snake  bites  and 
other  troubles.  We  are  told  that  during  the  rainy  season,  bungoes 
are  able  to  come  up  the  Tocaria  river  to  a  place  four  miles  away, 
from  which  goods  are  easily  brought  to  Nunchia.  As  the  river  has 
not  been  navigable  for  some  months,  there  is  almost  no  business  at 
present. 

We  should  have  left  Nunchia  this  morning  except  that  the  mules 
must  be  shod.  The  blacksmith  is  ill  and  his  assistant  is  not  only 


PORE  TO  NUNCHIA 


179 


slow  but  timid.  It  takes  him  nearly  three  hours  to  get  through  with 
one  mule  and  we  have  nine  that  need  shoeing. 

Rice  was  kept  busy  all  day  making  diagnoses  and  writing  pre¬ 
scriptions.  Soon  after  breakfast  a  woman  came  to  have  a  tooth 
extracted.  She  had  been  suffering  great  pain  for  ten  days  and  was 
completely  worn  out.  Rice  gave  her  morphine.  She  fainted  away 
and  the  people  who  had  crowded  around ,  to  the  number  of  about  a 
hundred,  thought  she  was  dying  or  dead.  We  finally  laid  her  out  on 
a  rude  bench  in  front  of  the  priests’  school  next  door,  where  she 


The  Plaza  at  Nunchia. 


gradually  revived,  much  to  the  wonder  of  the  crowd.  As  was  to  be 
expected,  other  cases  of  illness  followed  and  a  regular  dispensary  was 
established  before  we  knew  it. 

In  the  afternoon  one  of  the  village  priests  sent  for  Rice  to  come 
and  see  his  hand.  Examination  showed  a  case  of  gangrenous  slough¬ 
ing  phagadena.  His  arm  was  much  inflamed  and  he  had  a  high 
temperature.  The  doctor  told  him  that  he  would  lose  not  only  his 
hand  and  arm,  but  also  his  life,  if  the  disease  were  not  checked  by  a 
surgical  operation.  The  other  priest  offered  to  pay  all  our  expenses 
if  we  would  remain  long  enough  to  perform  the  operation  and  dress 
the  wound  until  his  colleague  was  out  of  danger.  To  this  we  agreed 
and  the  operation  is  set  for  tomorrow. 


i8o 


COLOMBIA 


One  of  our  callers  was  an  energetic  young  Colombian  who  plans 
to  take  orchids  to  New  York.  He  hears  that  they  sell  there  for 
twenty-five  dollars  apiece,  and  says  if  he  can  sell  them  for  only  two 
dollars  he  can  make  money.  -  He  has  half  a  dozen  men  collecting 
plants  in  the  mountains  west  of  here. 

March  31  st.  It  rained  in  torrents  last  night. 

I  have  had  an  exciting  Easter  Sunday  aiding  Rice  operate  on  the 
gangrenous  hand.  To  interpret,  run  the  priests’  kitchen,  boil  in¬ 
struments  and  dressings,  and  give  chloroform,  kept  me  fairly  busy. 
The  priests  have  a  nice,  clean  two-storv  house,  with  a  galvanized  iron 


The  Foot-hills  of  the  Andes  from  Nunchia. 


roof  covered  with  thatch  to  keep  it  cool.  We  took  their  dining-room 
for  an  operating  chamber,  and  found  the  table  served  our  purpose 
extremely  well.  The  priest  had  suffered  so  much  that  his  nerve  was 
all  gone  and  he  made  a  great  fuss  about  taking  the  chloroform. 
During  a  large  part  of  the  operation,  he  chanted  the  mass  in  a  rich 
baritone  voice,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  the  attendants  who  had 
never  before  seen  any  one  under  the  influence  of  an  anaesthetic. 
The  operation  lasted  nearly  an  hour  and  we  had  only  half  a  tea¬ 
spoonful  of  chloroform  left  when  it  was  over. 

The  fame  of  Rice’s  skill  as  a  surgeon  spread  rapidly  and  in  the 
afternoon  our  room  was  again  turned  into  a  dispensary  where  tooth- 


PORE  TO  NUNCHIA 


181 


pulling,  heart  and  lung  examinations,  and  a  large  crowd  of  spectators 
kept  us  busy.  As  at  Pore,  quite  a  number  of  people  who  have 
nothing  at  all  the  matter  with  them  came  for  the  fun  of  being  ex¬ 
amined  free,  much  to  Rice’s  annoyance.  I  acted  as  interpreter  and 
general  assistant.  Besides  extending  my  Spanish  vocabulary,  I  am 
getting  quite  a  smattering  of  the  prevalent  local  diseases.  Most  of 
the  troubles,  Rice  says,  are  due  to  the  fried  food  that  they  all  eat. 
This  afternoon  we  had  a  case  of  floating  kidney  and  one  of  exophthal¬ 
mic  goitre.  As  Rice  makes  no  charge,  the  Prefect  took  up  a  subscrip¬ 
tion  today  to  pay  our  board  bill  for  the  past  three  days.  The  priests 
are  to  pay  for  the  remainder  of  our  stay. 

April  i st.  This  dispensary  business  is  getting  to  be  a  great  nui¬ 
sance.  Were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  the  mules  are  not  all  shod  yet, 
and  that  the  food  is  not  as  bad  as  some  we  have  had,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  keep  one’s  temper.  There  is  no  chance  to  rest,  for  our 
door  is  besieged  from  morning  till  night  by  the  lame,  the  halt,  and 
the  blind,  people  with  heart  ache,  stomach  ache,  and  liver  com¬ 
plaint.  They  come  from  far  and  near  in  a  steady  stream.  The 
priest  had  a  bad  night  but  shows  very  little  fever,  and  we  hope  will 
not  detain  us  many  days. 

April  2 d.  The  little  blue  mule  has  developed  a  case  of  cattle 
plague  and  must  be  abandoned.  The  “  Savanna”  mule  died  a  month 
ago  after  crossing  the  Rio  Ele. 

One  of  the  telegraph  operators,  a  pleasant  young  fellow,  has  a 
wife  who  enjoys  a  tendency  towards  hypochondria  and  some  nervous 
indigestion.  Rice  advised  pumping  out  her  stomach,  to  which  she 
agreed  to  submit.  The  operation  was  almost  tragic.  She  struggled 
frantically,  bit  Rice’s  fingers,  screamed  as  loud  as  she  could,  and 
gave  us  a  circus  before  it  was  over. 

This  afternoon  we  had  another  exciting  performance  dressing 
the  priest’s  hand.  He  lost  his  nerve  completely,  insisted  on  having 
his  face  covered  by  a  napkin,  screamed,  groaned,  and  howled;  rather 
to  the  amusement  of  his  fellow  priest  and  of  the  Holy  Father  of  the 
district,  who  came  down  yesterday  from  Tamara  “to  see  what  the 
heretics  were  up  to.”  However,  the  Padre  Santo  is  very  pleasant 
and  this  evening  invited  us  to  a  nice  little  supper  with  some  wonder¬ 
ful  Madeira. 


182 


COLOMBIA 


April  3 d.  The  usual  dispensary  this  morning.  After  lunch  we 
started  to  make  a  call  at  the  telegraph  office  and  were  invited  to  stop 
at  the  house  of  Senor  Jesus  Maria,  for  whose  children  Rice  has  pre¬ 
scribed.  We  found  quite  a  little  feast  prepared  for  us.  As  we  had 
just  finished  a  hearty  lunch  it  was  not  easy  to  eat  anything,  but  still 
more  difficult  to  refuse  without  hurting  their  feelings.  Nevertheless 
we  have  been  desperately  hungry  so  often  we  are  tempted  to  stuff 
whenever  we  get  the  chance. 

This  evening  we  were  invited  out  to  dinner  by  Don  Carlos  Tobian, 
the  richest  man  in  the  town,  a  great  friend  of  Don  Sylvestre  and  the 
owner  of  a  large  ranch  near  Desecho.  His  wife  is  a  comely  lady  of 
forty  odd  years,  and  they  have  several  attractive  children.  He  had 
invited  us  to  occupy  a  vacant  room  at  his  house  soon  after  our 
arrival,  but  as  we  were  comfortably  settled  in  an  unoccupied  house, 
it  did  not  seem  worth  while  to  move.  Don  Carlos  has  a  charm¬ 
ing  establishment  kept  in  excellent  order,  and  provided  with  many 
comforts.  The  dinner  was  surprisingly  good.  Of  course  his  wife 
and  daughter  were  not  at  the  table,  but  remained  in  the  kitchen 
to  see  that  the  food  was  properly  served.  In  nearly  all  the  houses 
where  we  have  spent  a  night  or  had  meals,  the  housewife  has  done 
the  cooking  or  attended  to  it,  but  has  never  brought  it  to  the  table 
or  sat  down  to  eat  with  her  husband. 

April  4th.  Heavy  rains  during  the  night.  This  morning  we 
were  called  before  breakfast  to  see  a  little  girl  who  was  said  to  be 
dying.  She  had  been  taken  with  a  cataleptic  fit  during  the  night 
and  Rice  thinks  she  shows  symptoms  of  exophthalmic  goitre.  She 
is  about  six  years  old. 

The  priest  is  rapidly  recovering  and  Rice  declares  him  out  of 
danger.  We  had  quite  a  talk  with  him  this  morning.  He  claims  to 
have  suffered  much  persecution  during  the  revolution  of  1900  and 
1902,  when  he  was  driven  to  seek  refuge  among  the  wild  Indians  near 
the  Meta  River.  When  he  returned  to  Nunchia  all  he  found  left  of 
the  ecclesiastical  establishment  was  its  four  walls.  Everything  else 
had  been  stolen  or  destroyed.  Notwithstanding  his  courage  as  a 
missionary  he  makes  a  great  fuss  when  his  wound  is  dressed,  always 
has  his  face  covered,  and  shouts  loud  enough  to  be  heard  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away. 


PORE  TO  NUNCHIA 


183 


As  soon  as  we  returned  from  the  priest’s  house,  we  gave  orders 
to  saddle  and  load  the  mules,  but  before  we  could  start  off  one  of  the 
priests  came  to  beg  us  to  remain  a  few  days  longer  and  see  a  Sister  of 
Charity  who  was  being  brought  “from  Tamara  to  be  treated  by 
the  famous  surgeon.”  She  arrived  this  afternoon  accompanied 
by  another  Sister  and  her  case  was  diagnosed.  We  hope  to  leave 
tomorrow. 

Today  we  had  our  first  news  from  home,  a  cable  reaching  us  via 
Bogota.  To  be  away  from  home  is  bad  enough,  but  to  be  where  you 
cannot  possibly  reach  home  inside  of  a  month  or  six  weeks,  and 
receive  a  message  that  some  one  is  seriously  ill,  is  so  much  worse  that 
I  hope  it  will  never  happen  to  me  again. 


CHAPTER  X 


Nunchia  to  the  Paramo  of  Pisva 

April  5 th.  We  finally  left  Nunchia  at  noon  today,  this  being 
our  eighth  clay  in  a  place  that  we  had  not  even  heard  of  two  weeks 
ago.  The  little  blue  mule  had  to  be  left  behind.  We  were  unable  to 
hire  another  or  to  buy  one  at  a  reasonable  figure,  so  we  appreciated 
it  all  the  more  when  the  priests  offered  to  loan  us  a  fine,  strong  mule 
that  belongs  to  the  church.  No  one  can  say  that  they  are  not  grateful 
for  what  Rice  has  done  for  their  sick  brother.  Don  Carlos  Tobian 
accompanied  us  out  of  town  for  an  hour  according  to  the  polite 
Spanish  custom.  Soon  after  he  left  us  we  began  to  climb  a  terribly 
steep  bridle  path.  It  was  worse  than  the  steepest,  wettest,  rockiest 
mountain  trail  that  I  have  ever  seen  even  in  the  mountains  of  Oahu, 
and  I  do  not  wonder  that  the  people  call  it  a  “camino  muy  feo.”  It 
is  impossible  to  give  a  good  idea  of  it  in  words.  I  had  to  dismount 
twenty  times  this  afternoon  to  help  my  mule  up  or  down  the  slippery, 
rocky  steps.  The  path  repeatedly  descended  ravines  four  hundred 
feet  deep  and  immediately  climbed  out  again.  The  poor  cargo  mules 
had  a  hard  time  sliding  down  slippery  clay  banks,  picking  their  way 
across  rushing  mountain  torrents  and  clambering  up  moss-covered 
stone  stairways  which  it  did  not  seem  they  could  possibly  surmount. 

After  a  long  climb  we  came  to  an  exposed  pass  where  we  could 
overlook  both  ranges  of  foot-hills  and  see  the  Llanos.  About  five 
o’clock  we  reached  the  top  of  a  ridge  from  which  we  had  a  distant 
view  of  the  little  village  of  Morcote  on  a  hilltop  to  the  westward,  its 
huge  church  looking  in  the  distance  like  a  tiny  villa. 

The  Andes  loomed  up  grandly  all  about  us,  but  directly  in  front 
lay  a  fearfully  steep  decline,  the  path  a  series  of  long  flights  of  rocky 
stairs  winding  at  a  perilous  angle  six  hundred  feet  to  the  bottom  of  a 
deep  gorge.  As  it  had  been  raining  and  the  mossy  stones  were  very 
slippery,  I  did  not  care  to  ride  down,  but  it  was  almost  as  bad  to  be 

184 


NUNCHIA  TO  THE  PARAMO  OF  PISVA  185 


obliged  to  go  ahead  and  lead  the  mule,  expecting  that  he  would  fall 
any  moment. 

As  we  descended  we  entered  a  dense  tropical  forest  with  gigantic 
creepers,  tree  ferns,  and  rare  plants  and  orchids.  It  was  the  kind  of 
jungle  that  one  reads  about  in  the  old  books  on  Brazil.  We  looked 
carefully  for  snakes  but  saw  only  one,  a  small,  black  snake  two  feet 
long  which  my  mule 
almost  stepped  on 
before  it  escaped  into 
the  fern.  It  seems 
difficult  to  believe 
that  this  is  the  first 
snake  we  have  seen 
since  leaving  Caracas. 

About  half-past 
six  we  passed  through 
a  small  coffee  plan¬ 
tation,  climbed  a  long 
steep  hill  and  reached 
Morcote.  We  were 
pleasantly  received 
by  the  Corregidor, 
who  knew  we  were 
coming,  and  at  once 
took  us  to  the  school- 
house,  which  he 
placed  entirely  at  our 
disposal.  It  is  a 
small  adobe  hut  with 
a  grass-thatched  roof, 
two  tiny  windows,  a 
rough  wooden  door, 
dirt  floor,  two  tumble-down  benches,  a  rickety  table,  some  farm  tools 
and  a  small  frame  with  a  few  old  newspapers.  As  a  guest  of  the 
Municipality  of  Morcote  it  does  not  become  me  to  offer  any  further 
comment  on  the  condition  of  the  schoolhouse.  It  is,  in  fact,  credit¬ 
able  that  there  should  be  a  school  building,  as  there  are  not  more 


The  Schoolhouse  and  Populace  of  Morcote. 


COLOMBIA 


1 86 

than  a  dozen  huts  in  the  town.  But  such  is  the  perversity  of  human 
nature  we  prefer  to  sleep  outside  instead  of  inside  of  the  schoolhouse, 
although  the  night  was  damp  and  very  cool. 

April  6th.  The  ridge  on  which  Morcote  and  its  great  church  are 
situated  is  quite  narrow  and  there  are  deep  valleys  on  each  side. 
Altogether  it  has  the  most  sightly  location  imaginable.  We  spent 
some  time  exploring  the  extraordinary  church,  which  is  in  good  repair. 
It  was  built  of  stone  by  the  Spaniards,  and  is  an  object  of  pride  to 
every  one  in  the  country.  It  measures  two  hundred  and  three  feet 


The  Church  of  Morcote. 


in  length  and  fifty-three  feet  in  width.  One  cannot  help  wondering 
whether  it  has  ever  been  filled  with  worshippers.  It  has  an  attractive 
tower,  built  mostly  of  brick,  and  brick  is  also  used  for  the  window 
frames  and  the  corner  of  the  church.  No  priest  lives  here  and  ser¬ 
vices  are  held  but  seldom.  Like  the  church  at  Pore,  broken  images 
and  bats  are  in  full  possession. 

There  is  a  stone  twenty  inches  square  in  front  of  the  schoolhouse 
that  is  a  treasured  relic  and  may  be  connected  with  the  building  of 
the  church.  It  bears  the  inscription  on  the  opposite  page. 

The  cargo  mules  found  the  travelling  so  bad  that  they  did  not 
arrive  until  nine  o’clock  this  morning.  Luis,  the  arriero,  says  he 


NUNCHIA  TO  THE  PARAMO  OF  PISYA 


187 


must  rest  them  for  two  days.  He  has  never  been  over  this  road  and 
is  completely  disgusted  with  the  undertaking.  As  it  rained  steadily 
all  this  morning,  we  were  rather  glad  to  have  the  cargo  sheltered  under 
the  schoolhouse  roof.  The  wind  and  rain  were  from  the  southwest 
so  that  we  were  able  to  sit  out  on  the  northeast  porch  of  our  house 
and  enjoy  the  magnificent  view  over  the  mountains.  We  can  just 
see  the  Llanos  in  the  intervals  between  the  showers.  This  is  the  first 
day  that  has  been  so  cool  as  to  require  a  sweater  all  day  long. 


vq  B-lf  E  IP  LE  M 

yc  00:0:' tic 

jr  hi  Irpn  q,E>  1  iss  j 


- 


-  — .  - 


The  Corregidor  took  pains  to  attend  to  all  our  wants  in  the  most 
agreeable  manner  imaginable.  At  each  meal  he  sat  in  silence  watch¬ 
ing  us  eat  and  seeing  that  we  were  properly  served.  We  could  not 
account  for  this  hospitality  in  the  little  hill  village,  unless  some  of 
these  people  have  been  attending  the  free  dispensary  in  Nunchia 
during  the  past  week.  They  hardly  speak  above  a  whisper  in  our 
presence.  When  they  are  obliged  to  address  us  they  use  depreciatory 
diminutives  such  as  we  have  not  heard  before:  “desayunito”  (the 
poor  little  breakfast),  “cafecito”  (a  poor  little  cup  of  coffee),  “casito” 
(a  poor  little  dwelling).  Nothing  that  they  possess  seems  worthy  of 
being  referred  to  unless  the  diminutive  is  used. 


COLOMBIA 


1 88 


April  7th.  The  Corregidor  of  Morcote  and  most  of  his  people 
gathered  to  see  us  off  this  morning.  The  villagers  ran  along  by  our 
mules  and  accompanied  us  part  way  down  the  steep  hill  in  a  spirit  of 
genuine  courtesy.  The  path  plunged  down  into  the  valley  and  we 
entered  dense  tropical  woods.  The  trail  is  unspeakably  bad  but  the 
mules  have  taken  good  care  of  themselves  so  far  and  have  had  no  very 
bad  falls.  We  passed  several  magnificent  trees  in  the  forests,  trees 
whose  roots  rose  from  twelve  to  fifteen  feet  above  ground  and  occu¬ 
pied  a  space  from  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  in  diameter  at  the  base.  The 
branches  were  full  of  orchids  and  other  parasites.  We  passed  an 
orchid  gatherers’  camp. 

After  a  long,  steep  ascent  we  reached  the  top  of  a  pass  five  thou¬ 
sand  feet  high.  Here  were  two  wretched  little  huts,  and  although 
it  was  beginning  to  rain  we  preferred  to  push  on  down  the  trail  rather 
than  seek  such  questionable  shelter.  We  had  slid  down  a  hundred 
feet  or  more  when  an  Indian  woman  came  running  after  us  through 
the  woods  beseeching  us  to  return.  In  her  hands  she  carried  a  gourd 
containing  six  eggs  which  she  offered  to  cook  for  us  if  the  doctor 
would  only  go  back  and  heal  her  sick  children.  Rice,  consented  to 
do  what  he  could.  As  we  alighted  in  front  of  her  hut  a  hard  thunder¬ 
storm  broke  loose. 

The  hut  measured  only  eight  feet  by  ten,  but  had  a  loft  reached  by 
a  primitive  ladder  made  of  a  notched  log.  Pieces  of  decaying  jerked 
beef  hung  from  the  little  rafters,  and  filled  the  place  with  a  frightful 
odour,  although  it  was  entirely  open  on  two  sides  and  only  protected 
against  the  winds  on  the  north  and  east  by  walls  made  of  banana 
leaves.  In  this  wretched  abode  lived  two  women  and  three  children, 
one  of  them  an  infant  in  arms.  All  had  some  illness  or  other,  and  were 
examined  in  turn  by  the  doctor  who  wrote  prescriptions  for  each. 
Meanwhile  the  rain  continued  to  fall  in  torrents,  the  little  clay  kettle 
boiled  and  the  eggs  were  cooked.  Notwithstanding  all  their  poverty, 
they  had  three  or  four  pieces  of  pottery,  of  a  most  attractive  pattern, 
made  in  this  vicinity. 

At  the  end  of  three  quarters  of  an  hour  the  rain  held  up  and  we 
proceeded  to  slide  down  the  steep  trail  through  clouds,  mist,  and  rain, 
crossing  and  recrossing  a  brook  that  rapidly  became  a  torrent  and 
made  it  constantly  more  difficult  for  the  poor  mules  to  proceed.  No 


NUNCHIA  TO  THE  PARAMO  OF  PISVA 


189 


sooner  had  we  reached  the  bottom  of  the  descent  of  over  a  thousand 
feet  than  the  path  began  to  climb  another  mountain.  After  eight 
hours  of  this  alternate  climbing  and  sliding  we  reached  the  valley 
of  the  Paya.  In  front  of  us  to  the  northwest,  as  we  looked  up  the 
valley,  the  mountains  rose  tier  on  tier  until  lost  in  the  clouds  some¬ 
where  near  the  Paramo  of  Pisva.  At  our  feet,  on  a  terrace  several 
hundred  feet  above  the  river,  lay  the  little  town  of  Paya,  where  a  small 
body  of  Spaniards  endeavoured  in  1819  to  detain  the  march  of  the 
Liberating  Army.  On  our  right  rose  a  great  ridge  over  which 
the  soldiers  of  Santander  made  the  flank  movement  which  enabled  the 
patriots  to  win  the  battle,  while  on  the  left  the  valley  widened  out  until 
it  reached  the  range  of  mountains  that  lay  between  us  and  Labranza 
Grande. 

As  we  approached  Paya,  we  were  met  by  a  crowd  of  citizens  on 
foot  and  horseback  who  were  expecting  our  arrival,  and  had  seen  us 
descending  the  sides  of  the  valley.  They  escorted  us  with  some 
ceremony  across  the  little  plaza  to  a  house  on  the  corner  that  had 
been  placed  at  our  disposal.  There  is  no  posada  in  any  of  these 
mountain  towns.  It  was  Sunday  evening  and  the  usual  holiday  crowd 
of  drunks  gathered,  eager  to  satisfy  their  immoderate  curiosity.  The 
house  is  rented  by  a  citizen  of  Labranza  Grande  who  is  engaged  in 
developing  rubber,  coffee,  and  other  industries  that  should  succeed 
in  this  vicinity.  Like  the  Corregidor  of  Morcote  he  invited  us  to 
take  our  meals  at  the  pulperia  or  village  tavern  at  his  expense,  and 
sits  in  silence  watching  us  eat  and  supervising  the  service. 

April  8th.  Paya  was  once  larger  than  it  is  today,  as  one  can 
readily  see  from  the  ruins.  We  were  told  in  Morcote  that  it  had 
thirteen  thousand  people.  Our  host  here  says  it  actually  had  two 
thousand;  but  its  population  probably  never  numbered  over  five 
hundred.  At  present  it  has  less  than  fifty  houses  and  huts.  Most 
of  them  are  of  adobe  with  stone  corners  and  grass  roofs.  A  couple 
of  two-story  houses  are  still  standing  and  a  few  of  the  more  important 
buildings  have  red-tiled  roofs.  Our  luggage  got  very  wet  in  the  rain 
yesterday  and  the  mules  very  tired,  so  we  spent  the  day  resting  the 
mules  and  drying  our  clothes. 

This  afternoon  our  host,  Don  Jeronimo,  took  us  to  visit  the  old 
Spanish  fort  near  by,  where  tradition  says  five  hundred  Spaniards 


COLOMBIA 


190 

were  defeated  by  Bolivar.  As  the  fort  is  quite  small,  a  sixteen-sided 
star,  each  side  measuring  twenty-one  feet,  the  fort  itself  only  one 
hundred  and  twenty  feet  in  diameter,  it  seems  more  likely  that  it  wras 
defended  by  one  hundred  men  than  by  five  hundred.  In  the  fort  is 
the  remains  of  a  well.  The  stone  wall  that  surrounds  the  fort  is  from 
four  to  five  feet  high  on  the  inside,  with  a  stone  platform  that  enables 
a  man  to  stand  breast  high  behind  it.  The  little  enclosure  is  sur¬ 
rounded  by  a  moat  that  is  at  present  ten  feet  deep  and  fifteen  feet 
across.  It  is  situated  on  a  hill  that  commands  the  town  of  Paya  and 


also  the  road  to  the  Paramo  of  Pisva,  but  is  in  its  turn  commanded 
by  hills  which  rise  back  of  it  to  the  north  and  east.  The  story  goes 
that  Santander  took  his  soldiers  along  this  ridge  and  lay  in  ambush 
in  the  densely  wooded  valley  on  that  side  of  the  fort,  while  Bolivar 
made  a  feigned  attack  in  front  followed  by  a  hasty  retreat,  which 
enticed  the  Spaniards  from  their  breastworks  and  gave  Santander 
the  opportunity  to  capture  the  fort  from  the  rear. 

The  view  is  charming.  The  valley  seems  to  be  extremely  fertile, 
but  at  present  only  supports  a  scattered  population  that  live  on  little 
clearings  in  the  forests.  The  country  looks  as  though  it  might  be 


NUNCHIA  TO  THE  PARAMO  OF  PISVA 


191 

excellent  for  coffee,  cocoa,  and  rubber.  The  trails  are  so  bad  that 
even  mules  use  them  with  difficulty.  Horses  are  of  almost  no  value 
here.  Most  of  the  transportation  is  done  by  Indian  carriers,  as  has 
been  the  custom  since  time  immemorial.  By  means  of  a  band  across 
their  forehead,  these  peons  carry  loads  of  from  sixty  to  one  hundred 
pounds  at  a  jog-trot  up  and  down  the  awful  paths. 

As  we  came  down  from  the  hill  fort,  we  saw  four  Indians  in  a  little 
clearing  in  which  no  plowing  had  been  done,  although  the  trees  had 
been  recently  cut  away.  Two  men  were  striding  over  it  walking 
side  by  side,  about  eight  feet  apart,  each  with  a  long  pole  in  his  right 
hand  which  he  struck  violently  into  the  ground  at  every  step.  They 
walked  quite  fast  and  we  had  no  idea  what  they  were  doing.  About 
eight  feet  behind  each  man  walked  a  woman  carrying  something  in 
her  apron,  a  few  kernels  of  which  she  dropped  into  the  holes  made  by 
the  long  poles.  This  operation  looked  like  some  form  of  incanta¬ 
tion,  but  was  really  plowing,  harrowing,  planting,  and  cultivating 
maize. 

The  mountain  Indians  are  very  different  from  the  wild  Yaruros 
of  the  plains.  Even  before  the  Spaniards  came  they  had  a  kind  of 
civilization,  cultivated  the  soil,  and  were  decently  clothed.  Their 
descendants  appear  to  have  lost  the  ancient  language,  speak  bad 
Spanish,  and  have  learnt  to  be  mistrustful  and  ignorant.  Their 
ancestors  grew  maize,  tobacco,  and  potatoes,  centuries  before  ours 
ever  heard  of  such  modern  every-day  necessities. 

This  is  the  country  for  soup,  three  times  a  day  and  sometimes 
twice  a  meal.  It  seems  to  be  the  only  way  these  poor  people  have  of 
getting  warm.  For  breakfast  they  have  a  very  thin  broth  with  a 
poached  egg  in  it.  For  lunch,  vegetable  soup  and  fried  plantains  or 
boiled  sweet  cassava.  For  dinner,  potato  soup,  wheat  soup,  and 
more  cassava.  Rice’s  patients  brought  presents  today  in  the  form 
of  eggs  and  chickens,  so  that  we  fared  better  than  ordinary. 

April  gth.  Don  Jeronimo  accompanied  us  for  half  an  hour  on 
our  journey  this  morning.  His  last  request  was  that  we  should  tell 
President  Reyes  of  the  great  need  for  better  roads  in  this  part  of 
Colombia. 

Our  trail  today  lay  for  the  most  part  on  the  northeast  side  of  the 
beautiful  green  valley  of  the  Paya  river,  skirting  steep  inclines,  wind- 


192 


COLOMBIA 


ing  slowly  over  rocky  ridges,  and  fording  mountain  torrents.  In 
general  the  road  was  not  as  steep  as  yesterday.  At  times  we  passed 
solitary  huts  built  of  adobe,  with  stone  corners,  as  seems  to  be  the 
custom  hereabouts.  Some  of  the  mountain  Indians  have  primitive 
wooden  rollers  for  grinding  sugar-cane,  worked  by  a  hand  windlass 
not  unlike  a  small  capstan.  Almost  the  only  animals  we  saw  today 
were  a  few  cows  grazing  on  the  sides  of  the  mountains. 

We  left  Paya  a  little  before  eleven.  Shortly  after  one  o’clock  we 
climbed  up  to  a  great  terrace  something  like  the  one  on  which  Paya 
is  situated.  The  views  on  all  sides  were  simply  glorious  and  im¬ 
possible  to  describe  adequately.  The  mountains  were  very  green 
and  forested  to  their  tops  as  far  as  we  could  see.  The  terraces  in  the 
valleys  were  distinctly  marked.  The  valley  was  deep  but  not  wide 
and  its  sides  steep,  yet  we  saw  no  waterfalls,  as  there  are  few  rocky 
precipices  and  the  watercourses  are  heavily  wooded.  Occasionally 
we  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  foamy  white  torrent  of  the  Paya  rushing 
along  deep  down  in  the  valley. 

About  dusk  we  rode  into  the  little  village  of  Pisva,  a  collection  of 
thirty  or  forty  adobe  huts,  with  grass  roofs,  inhabited  by  mountain 
Indians  who  have  a  somewhat  unsavoury  reputation.  A  few  indi¬ 
viduals  were  standing  in  the  door  of  the  principal  shop,  which  offered 
for  sale  crude  chocolate,  stale  bread,  green  plantains,  raw  sugar,  and 
cheap  cotton  cloth  in  extremely  limited  quantities. 

I  asked  to  be  directed  to  the  alcalde,  for  whom  I  had  a  letter  from 
the  Prefect.  The  shopkeeper  replied  sulkily  that  he  had  gone  away, 
but  a  woman  standing  near  him,  and  not  in  the  secret,  contradicted 
him,  said  the  alcalde  was  at  home,  and  told  me  his  house  was  a  little 
farther  on.  For  giving  this  information  she  was  promptly  and 
severely  reproved.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  the  Indians  were  extremely 
suspicious  of  us;  several  even  closed  the  doors  of  their  huts  as  we 
came  along.  The  alcalde’s  hut  was  in  no  way  different  from  the 
others,  but  just  as  dirty  and  small.  The  door  was  open,  however, 
and  after  some  calling  his  wife  appeared  from  a  smaller  hut  in  the 
back  yard  and  bade  us  enter  and  make  ourselves  at  home.  The  bare, 
dark,  windowless,  filthy  little  hut  was  soon  completely  filled  with  our 
luggage,  hammocks,  and  cot,  and  there  was  barely  room  for  the  raw- 
hides  on  which  Luis  and  his  assistant  arriero  sleep.  Soon  after  dark 


NUNCHIA  TO  THE  PARAMO  OF  PISVA 


J93 


the  alcalde  appeared.  He  had  presumably  been  hiding  in  the  bushes 
until  he  had  an  opportunity  of  sizing  us  up.  His  welcome  was  not 
cordial,  but  he  pretended  to  read  the  official  letter  and  soon  provided 
us  with  several  bowls  of  soup. 

April  icth.  Pisva,  like  Paya,  is  situated  on  a  terrace  about  four 
hundred  feet  above  the  bed  of  the  river.  There  is  a  thatched  church 
which  is  in  good  repair,  although  no  priest  lives  here.  Many  of  the 
huts  seem  to  be  unoccupied.  During  the  day  a  number  of  Indian 
carriers  passed  through  the  village,  some  of  them  stopping  to  buy 


Pisva,  Looking  Westward. 


fibre  sandals  that  are  manufactured  here  and  sold  for  fifteen  cents,  or 
hats  made  of  the  same  material,  sold  for  fifty  cents.  The  alcalde 
has  a  few  hives  of  bees,  and  wax-making  is  one  of  the  local  industries. 

During  the  night,  the  church  mule,  which  at  some  time  in  its 
career  has  had  its  ears  clipped  like  a  fox  terrier,  and  seems  to  avoid 
the  society  of  its  fellows,  left  our  mules  and  wandered  so  far  into  the 
forest  that  it  was  noon  before  it  was  found.  How  to  secure  fodder 
for  the  mules  is  becoming  quite  a  problem.  The  grass  here  is  so 
rank  and  poor  that  when  they  are  tethered  out  to  graze  during  the 


194 


COLOMBIA 


night,  they  fail  to  get  sufficient  food  and  break  away  from  their  stakes 
if  they  possibly  can.  We  have  found  it  very  difficult  to  buy  maize. 
Luis  is  terribly  discouraged  over  the  fearful  roads  and  refuses  to  go 
on  unless  he  can  get  some  Indian  carriers  to  help  him.  The  alcalde 
promises  to  furnish  aid  “tomorrow.”  It  seems  impossible  to  make 
any  kind  of  progress  over  such  a  trail.  No  wonder  that  the  Spaniards 
thought  Bolivar  could  never  bring  an  army  this  way. 

While  we  were  waiting  for  the  mule  to  be  found,  the  alcalde 
brought  me  two  specimens  of  iron  pyrites,  taken  from  a  hill  near 
here,  which  he  thinks  are  silver  ore.  Josh  spent  last  night  in  the 
open,  as  his  mule  refused  to  carry  him  or  even  to  be  led.  Josh  has 
been  so  lazy  and  sulky  of  late  that  we  thought  he  had  decided  to 
remain  in  the  country  and  were  somewhat  surprised  when  he 
appeared  about  one  o’clock  with  his  mule. 

The  usual  collection  of  invalids  came  to  Rice  this  afternoon, 
bringing  eggs,  sweet  cassava,  and  crude  sugar  as  offerings. 

April  n th.  We  took  pains  last  evening  to  have  the  mules  tied 
with  particular  care  so  as  to  get  an  early  start,  but  in  the  night  the 
church  mule  again  broke  his  rope  and  Josh’s  mule  disappeared  like¬ 
wise.  It  meant  another  delay,  but  both  were  found  before  noon,  and 
their  riders  were  able  to  overtake  the  caravan  that  started  out  about 
ten  o’clock.  Luis  succeeded  in  securing  the  services  of  four  Indians 
who  are  to  accompany  us  to  the  first  stopping-place  on  the  other  side 
of  the  pass. 

The  caravan  is  now  led  by  an  old  Indian  and  a  boy  carrying  light 
loads,  followed  by  a  strong,  young  Indian  carrying  a  heavy  load  and 
leading  one  of  the  cargo  mules  which  has  a  particularly  fragile  cargo 
including  the  photographic  plates  and  the  theodolite.  I  try  to  keep 
near  him  so  as  to  aid  in  case  of  trouble.  Richard  is  supposed  to  be 
not  far  behind  me  with  the  camera,  and  then  come  the  other  four 
pack  mules  each  in  charge  of  an  arriero.  Rice  brings  up  the  rear, 
although  Josh  is  likely  to  be  a  mile  or  two  behind  him. 

From  Pisva  the  road  continues  to  wind  along  the  eastern  side  of 
the  valley.  An  hour  after  leaving  the  hamlet  the  trail  divides,  the 
left  part  going  across  the  valley  to  Pancote,  a  village  of  a  dozen  huts, 
each  with  its  little  patch  of  cultivated  ground.  From  Pancote  a  trail 
goes  over  the  mountain  to  Labranza  Grande.  We  took  the  right- 


NUNCHIA  TO  THE  PARAMO  OF  PISVA 


x95 


hand  path  and  soon  entered  the  hamlet  of  Jota,  with  a  dozen  or  four¬ 
teen  huts,  each  of  them  surrounded  by  a  few  beehives.  I  saw  one 
of  the  inhabitants  washing  the  yellow  wax  and  working  it  into  balls. 

At  noon  we  crossed  a  very  bad  mountain  torrent,  an  affluent  of 
the  Paya,  over  which  a  fragile  foot  bridge  had  been  thrown  for  the 
use  of  the  carriers.  The  only  possible  ford  for  the  mules  was  full 
of  big  boulders  and  dangerous  holes.  Had  we  not  been  through 
several  worse  places  already,  this  ford  would  have  seemed  impassable. 
One  mule  got  caught  between  two  of  the  boulders  and  his  load  was 
under  water  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  he  could  be  extricated. 
Fortunately,  it  was  the  “kitchen  load,”  and  the  food  was  all  in  water¬ 
proof  bags,  which  stood  the  immersion  splendidly.  It  was  also 
fortunate  that  there  had  been  no  rain  during  the  previous  twenty-four 
hours. 

The  last  hamlet,  as  one  goes  up  the  Paya  valley,  is  a  place  called 
Tovacar,  where  we  made  an  hour’s  halt  to  enable  the  mules  to  rest 
and  the  men  to  get  a  little  lunch.  The  Indians  here  make  a  specialty 
of  supplying  eggs  and  fowls  to  the  carriers.  Luis  bought  a  nicely 
roasted  fowl  for  “forty  dollars.”  There  are  a  few  goats  in  the  vil¬ 
lage,  but  we  were  surprised  not  to  see  more,  as  there  is  plenty  of 
good  pasturage  for  them,  and  this  place  is  only  six  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea. 

The  huts  are  very  small,  only  one  third  as  large  as  those  of  the 
poorer  classes  in  the  Llanos.  A  hut  eight  feet  by  ten  is  a  good-sized 
building  here.  There  are  no  windows  to  let  in  the  cold.  The  doors 
are  of  rawhide  stretched  over  a  wooden  frame. 

In  one  of  the  eight  huts  we  saw  two  women  spinning  cotton  in  a 
primitive  fashion  by  means  of  a  top  spun  between  the  hands  in  a 
piece  of  broken  gourd.  The  top  or  bobbin  has  near  its  base  a  small, 
round  piece  of  wood  one  and  one-half  inches  in  diameter  which  acts 
as  a  balance  wheel.  The  women  worked  rapidly  and  with  great 
skill,  drawing  out  the  cotton  with  their  fingers,  fastening  it  deftly  to 
the  bobbin,  twisting  it,  and  spinning  the  top  between  the  palms  of 
their  hands  so  that  it  rapidly  filled  up  with  coarse  cotton  thread. 
From  the  bobbins  it  is  unwound  by  hand,  rolled  into  balls  of  various 
sizes,  and  sold  in  that  form.  The  manufacture  of  cotton  was  char¬ 
acteristic  of  this  valley  even  in  Spanish  times. 


196 


COLOMBIA 


Beyond  Tovacar,  the  trail,  only  a  foot-path,  became  much  worse, 
and  we  had  repeatedly  to  stop  and  move  large  rocks  or  fallen  trees  in 
order  to  enable  the  loaded  mules  to  pass.  It  was  slow  work.  The 
men  had  no  axes  but  only  their  short  machetes,  and  no  crowbars 
except  the  branches  of  trees.  The  foliage  about  here  is  as  much  as 
possible  like  that  in  the  mountains  of  the  Hawaiian  Islands:  a  drip¬ 
ping  wet  tropical  forest.  The  slow  condensation  of  vapour  goes  on 
continuously. 

About  four  o’clock  we  reached  Pueblo  Viejo,  a  collection  of  three 
little  hovels,  the  very  last  habitations  on  the  road  to  the  Paramo  of 
Pisva.  One  contains  primitive  sleeping  quarters  for  the  three  women 
and  the  boy  who  live  here.  Another  is  barely  large  enough  for  our 
cargo  and  the  men.  The  third  is  a  little  pigsty  with  a  thatched  roof 
in  very  bad  repair,  but  without  sides  or  any  shelter  against  the  winds. 
As  the  sty  is  not  muddy  and  seems  to  have  fewer  fleas  than  the  other 
huts,  Rice  and  I  have  decided  to  use  it  ourselves  and  keep  out  the 
pigs. 

At  one  end  of  this  settlement  is  an  arrangement  for  extracting  the 
juice  from  sugar-cane  that  is  as  primitive  as  anything  one  could  well 
imagine.  It  consists  simply  of  an  upright  carved  post  with  a  hole 
in  it.  Into  the  hole  a  stout  lever  and  a  stick  of  cane  may  be  inserted. 
Pressure  is  applied  to  the  lever  and  the  juice,  forced  from  the  cane, 
runs  down  the  front  of  the  post,  carved  to  resemble  a  man’s  face. 
From  the  tip  of  the  beard  it  trickles  into  a  bowl  beneath.  I  thought 
I  had  seen  primitive  methods  before,  but  this  beats  them  all. 

As  there  was  absolutely  no  food  to  be  had  at  Pueblo  Viejo,  we 
were  obliged,  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  El  Limbo,  to  use  the 
provisions  which  the  cowboy  bought  at  Tame.  The  women  here  keep 
very  busy,  one  weaving  a  hat,  another  spinning  cotton,  while  the  third 
attends  to  cooking  whatever  provisions  the  travellers  bring  with  them. 

April  12th.  For  a  wonder  the  mules  were  all  easily  found  this 
morning  and  we  left  at  nine  o’clock.  The  trail  plunged  at  once  into 
the  thickest  of  thick  woods.  Although  it  has  not  rained  for  several 
days,  the  path  was  a  brook  and  the  trees  dripping  wet.  It  would  be 
almost  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  difficulties  of  the  march.  We 
had  to  dismount  frequently  and  the  men  worked  very  hard  to  get  the 
mules  up  the  rocky,  slippery  trail.  In  places  it  was  simply  a  steep, 


NUNCHIA  TO  THE  PARAMO  OF  PISVA 


19  7 


narrow  stairway  of  moss-covered  rocks,  with  a  stream  of  water  flow¬ 
ing  down  and  jagged  rocks  projecting  from  its  dripping  sides.  Day 
before  yesterday  the  alcalde  of  Pisva  sent  six  Indians  to  repair  the 
worst  places.  The  chief  difficulty  is  that  the  path  is  too  narrow  for 
the  loaded  animals  and  at  places  is  so  steep  and  slippery  that  the 
loads  have  to  be  taken  off  the  mules  and  carried  up  by  hand.  Even 
so  the  bags  are  getting  terribly  scratched  and  torn. 

At  an  altitude  of  seventy-five  hundred  feet  we  halted  to  allow  the 
caravan  to  rest.  At  the  stopping-place  was  a  tree  surrounded  with 
little  crosses,  and  each  one  of  our  Indians  made  a  little  rustic  cross 
while  resting,  which  he  deposited  as  an  offering  to  the  genius  of  the 
place  that  had  permitted  them  to  come  this  far  in  safety.  Fortu¬ 
nately,  we  have  escaped  any  serious  accidents. 

About  noon  we  left  the  dense  forest  behind  us  at  an  altitude  of 
ninety-seven  hundred  feet,  and  came  to  the  edge  of  the  Paramo. 
Here  we  found  a  ruined  shelter  four  feet  square.  A  small  swamp, 
fairly  dry  now,  offered  good  grass  for  the  mules.  The  worst  of  the 
ascent  was  over,  but  a  new  difficulty  immediately  presented  itself. 
The  path  entered  a  swampy  region  where  the  poor  mules  narrowly 
escaped  being  mired  in  thick  treacherous  mud.  They  became 
extremely  nervous,  plunged  about  in  the  bogs,  and,  although  wearied 
by  their  long  climb,  were  very  hard  to  handle.  About  four  o’clock  we 
reached  a  small  plateau  called  Sabaneta,  where  there  is  a  wretched 
little  shelter,  about  four  feet  high  and  four  feet  square,  built  of  the 
trunks  of  a  wild  aloe  that  seems  to  be  peculiar  to  the  Paramo.  On  a 
neighbouring  hillock  we  pitched  a  tent  for  the  first  time  since  leaving 
Carabobo. 

The  Paramo  of  Pisva  is  a  portion  of  the  cold,  damp  wilderness 
that  occupies  the  summit  of  the  Cordillera.  Its  main  characteristics 
are  bleakness,  damp  chilly  fogs,  solitary  ponds,  a  scrubby  growth  of 
dwarfed  and  thorny  plants,  puddles  of  water,  “sloughs  of  despond,” 
little  hillocks  covered  with  coarse  grass,  and  the  absence  of  almost  all 
animal  life.  The  little  lakes  in  the  clouds  would  be  most  attractive 
were  the  surroundings  not  so  bleak  and  dismal.  Properly  the  paramo 
begins  and  ends  at  the  tree  line.  It  is  difficult  to  realize  that  the  hills 
which  rise  above  the  general  level  of  the  plateau  are  in  reality  peaks 
of  the  Andes,  twelve  and  fourteen  thousand  feet  above  the  sea. 


198 


COLOMBIA 


Josh’s  mule  refused  to  carry  him  today  and  looks  as  though  it 
was  going  to  die.  Richard’s  mule  has  been  falling  away  rapidly  and 
is  now  but  the  ghost  of  its  former  self.  My  mule  seems  to  be  fairly 
well  and  in  good  spirits  and  I  have  great  hopes  of  getting  him  safely 
to  the  end  of  the  journey.  In  his  report  to  the  Government,  Bolivar 
stated  that  he  lost  all  his  animals  and  many  of  his  men.  It  looks  as 
though  he  told  the  truth. 

April  13th.  Soon  after  supper  last  evening  a  dismal  chilling 
rain  set  in  and  kept  up  for  several  hours.  The  cold  was  intense, 
damp,  and  penetrating.  We  spent  a  miserable  night,  the  most  dis¬ 
agreeable  of  the  whole  trip.  I  kept  on  all  my  clothes  except  my  boots 
and  put  on  in  addition  two  heavy  sweaters.  The  three  thicknesses 
of  my  Jaeger  blankets  and  four  thicknesses  of  an  army-blanket  could 
not  keep  out  the  cold.  It  was  so  penetrating  I  woke  up  repeatedly. 
None  of  us  slept  much.  After  midnight  the  clouds  cleared  away 
and  the  stars  became  wonderfully  clear  and  brilliant.  At  half-past 
six  the  thermometer  registered  370  F.,  but  a  thin  skim  of  ice  over  the 
rain  water  in  the  cooking  utensils  showed  that  it  had  been  lower 
during  the  night.  Three  arrieros  slept  in  the  little  shelter,  while  the 
other  Indians  went  off  to  a  small  cave  near  by.  Some  of  the  mules 
were  allowed  to  go  loose  in  order  to  find  what  grass  and  shelter  they 
could.  Two  of  them  stayed  by  our  tent  most  of  the  night,  nibbling 
close  around  it.  It  was  a  pathetic  farewell  performance,  for  they 
both  collapsed  in  the  course  of  the  day  and  had  to  be  abandoned  in  the 
Paramo.  This  morning  we  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  a  fire 
started,  as  everything  was  drenching  wet  and  there  was  very  little 
wood  to  be  had. 

From  the  dreary  plateau  of  Sabaneta  the  trail  climbed  steadily 
higher  and  higher  over  slippery  paths  and  treacherous  bogs,  deeper 
into  the  mountain  wilderness.  All  day  long  we  followed  a  path  along 
the  ridges  in  a  northerly  direction.  By  noon  we  surmounted  a  ridge 
and  apparently  were  looking. down  on  the  Sogamoso  side  of  the  Andes, 
but  the  deep,  heavily  forested  valley  that  lay  beneath  us  to  the  west¬ 
ward  was  in  reality  part  of  the  Orinoco  system,  although  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  realize  it.  The  wind  blew  the  clouds  rapidly  up  the 
valley  and  about  us. 

Our  Indians  pointed  out  one  of  the  lakes  we  passed  as  being  the 


NUNCHIA  TO  THE  PARAMO  OF  PISVA 


199 


place  where  the  Spaniards  had  deposited  much  treasure  when  pur¬ 
sued  by  Bolivar’s  army,  but  we  did  not  stop  to  investigate.  At  half¬ 
past  two  we  passed  the  cumbre,  began  the  descent,  and  found  ourselves 
in  a  rather  barren  valley  where  we  were  sheltered  from  the  cold,  damp 
wind.  The  path  was  steep  but  presented  no  difficulties  equal  to 
those  on  the  other  side  of  the  Paramo.  Our  barometers  stopped 
working  at  ten  thousand  five  hundred  feet,  soon  after  we  left 
Sabaneta  this  morning,  so  we  were  unable  to  determine  the  exact 
height  of  the  head  of  the  pass.  It  is  probably  not  much  over  thirteen 


The  Paramo  of  Pisva  from  Las  Quebradas. 


thousand  feet.  We  had  no  extensive  views  today,  as  the  clouds 
surrounded  us  or  passed  beneath  us  most  of  the  time.  It  was  a 
frightfully  cold,  dismal  ride. 

After  a  descent  of  between  two  and  three  thousand  feet,  we  reached 
Las  Quebradas  at  four  o’clock  and  were  hospitably  received  by  a 
family  of  mountain  Indians  who  moved  out  of  their  sleeping  hut  into 
the  cooking  hut,  these  two  shacks  constituting  the  whole  of  this 
settlement,  in  order  that  Rice  and  I  might  have  a  dry  place  to  rest 
in.  We  are  at  an  elevation  of  about  eleven  thousand  feet  and  in 
spite  of  the  fleas  are  glad  enough  to  crawl  into  the  little  six  by  eight 


200 


COLOMBIA 


shelter  and  close  the  rawhide  door  to  keep  out  the  cold  night 
wind. 

The  family  shared  with  us  their  supper  of  cracked  wheat,  gruel, 
and  diminutive  boiled  potatoes,  to  which  they  added  a  roast  fowl 
which  we  bought.  Rice  was  not  able  to  eat  anything.  He  had  a 
frightful  headache  all  day  long  and  was  very  sick  this  evening.  The 
negroes  did  not  put  in  an  appearance. 

We  feel  as  though  we  were  at  last  in  a  position  to  appreciate  the 
tremendous  difficulties  which  were  overcome  by  the  soldiers  of  Boli¬ 
var  and  Santander.  They  had  to  suffer  a  combination  of  hardships 
that  has  rarely  been  equalled  in  military  history.  The  length  of  their 
march;  the  poverty  of  the  country;  their  inadequate  equipment;  the 
loss  of  all  their  saddle  and  pack  animals;  intense  heat  and  penetrating 
cold  every  twenty-four  hours;  a  region  infested  with  malaria;  a  season 
of  torrential  rains  on  the  Llanos  and  of  snow,  ice,  and  hail  in  the 
Paramo;  a  route  that  led  them  through  dangerous  swamps,  across 
flooded  rivers,  over  burning  plains,  into  tropical  jungles,  and  finally 
over  a  mountain  pass  thirteen  thousand  feet  high.  Seldom  have 
men  been  called  on  to  overcome  such  obstacles.  Add  to  these  the 
fact  that  they  were  half-starved,  their  only  food  for  weeks  at  a 
time  being  freshly  killed  beef,  and  that  they  were  approaching  an 
enemy  that  outnumbered  them,  and  one  cannot  but  marvel  at  their 
courage  and  admire  the  tenacity  of  purpose  that  upheld  them. 


CHAPTER  XI 


From  the  Paramo  of  Pisva  to  Pantano  de  Vargas 

April  14 th.  About  nine  o’clock  this  morning  Josh  and  Richard 
came  limping  alone  down  the  valley.  It  had  been  quite  impossible 
for  them  to  keep  up  with  the  procession  yesterday.  For  several 
hours  the  Indians  had  helped  them  along,  but  finally  gave  it  up  and 
left  them  behind.  They  lost  their  road  and  spent  a  wretched  night 
on  the  Paramo.  They  had  neither  fire,  shelter  nor  food.  They  had 
used  up  their  matches  on  cigarettes  and  had  none  left  when  night 
fell.  Their  mules  had  given  out  during  the  day,  lying  down  in  their 
tracks,  utterly  unable  to  come  a  step  farther,  and  had  been  unsaddled 
and  left  in  the  mountain  wilderness. 

We  were  able  today  to  appreciate  some  of  the  joys  of  Bolivar’s 
soldiers  when  they  descended  from  the  Paramo  and  came  into  the 
beautiful  valley  of  the  Sogamoso,  with  its  fertile  fields  and  well-fed 
inhabitants.  It  presented  a  scene  of  great  beauty  this  morning. 
Every  available  square  rod  seemed  to  be  under  cultivation.  The 
labourer’s  houses  are  well  built,  mostly  of  adobe  with  red-tiled  roofs. 
Threshing  floors  are  abundant  and  occasionally  we  saw  a  group  of 
men,  women,  horses,  and  mules  engaged  in  threshing  and  treading 
out  wheat  or  barley.  The  road  was  actually  wide  enough  for  two 
loaded  animals  to  pass,  notwithstanding  the  stone  or  adobe  walls  on 
each  side. 

So  rich  is  the  land  and  so  dense  the  population  compared  with 
anything  we  have  seen  yet  that  a  new  element  came  into  the  view, 
walls  and  small  enclosures.  High  up  on  the  sides  of  the  great  valley, 
fences  are  built  of  bundles  of  fagots  laid  between  small  poles.  They 
look  rather  inflammable,  but  serve  to  keep  out  the  numerous  sheep 
that  roam  wherever  they  can  to  pick  up  a  living. 

New  flowers,  new  birds,  and  new  sights  were  a  great  relief  to  the 
eye,  but  most  pleasant  of  all  were  the  signs  of  man’s  industry.  We 


201 


202 


COLOMBIA 


have  been  so  many  weeks  without  this  that  it  seemed  as  though  we 
had  come  into  a  new  world.  The  air  was  very  clear,  the  sun  shone 
brightly,  and  the  charm  of  the  great  cultivated  valley  after  the  dreari¬ 
ness  of  the  Llanos  and  the  Paramo  can  never  be  forgotten.  How  it 
must  have  cheered  the  hearts  of  the  weary  soldiers  of  the  Liberating 
Army ! 

About  noon  we  came  to  a  little  wayside  tavern  or  chicheria  as  it  is 
called  here,  and  bought  some  delicious  bread  and  cheese,  the  best 
bread  we  have  tasted  since  leaving  New  York.  A  crowd  of  Sunday 
idlers  were  drinking  and  gambling  in  and  about  the  chicheria ,  and 
although  they  were  very  curious  they  gave  us  a  cordial  welcome  and 
seemed  to  know  who  we  were.  Rice  was  besieged  all  along  the  road 
by  the  lame,  the  halt  and  the  blind  who  had  heard  of  his  wonderful 
cures  in  Nunchia.  They  came  running  down  the  sides  of  the  moun¬ 
tains  to  accost  him  and  get  one  of  his  wonderful  prescriptions.  Poor 
Rice,  worn  out  by  his  recent  illness,  would  have  liked  to  escape  from 
the  unfortunate  sufferers,  but  they  knelt  on  the  road  in  front  of  his 
mule  and  wept  until  he  gave  them  one  of  the  magic  pieces  of  paper. 
Some,  hearing  of  his  approach,  had  come  ten  or  fifteen  miles  to  be 
cured. 

Socota,  a  pretty  little  village  on  the  northeastern  slope  of  the  great 
valley,  almost  enticed  us  to  leave  our  road  and  rest  there,  but  we 
turned  south  instead  and  reached  Laguna  Seca,  or  Socha  Nueva,  as 
it  is  sometimes  called,  about  four  o’clock.  The  alcalde  was  pompous 
and  officious,  but  seemed  to  be  hospitably  disposed,  and  placed  his 
lodgings  at  our  service.  His  home  is  in  Socha  Viejo,  where  he 
occupies  a  house  in  which  it  is  said  Bolivar  had  his  headquarters  after 
coming  through  the  Paramo. 

The  Sunday  crowd  in  the  plaza  was  rather  drunk  but  not  dis¬ 
orderly,  although  it  manifested  an  inordinate  curiosity  regarding  us 
that  was  most  annoying.  I  sat  on  the  door-step  of  our  lodgings  to 
rest  in  the  fresh  air.  In  front  of  me  stood  a  solid  wall  of  inquisitive 
citizens  whispering  and  watching.  They  seemed  to  think  it  rude  to 
talk  above  a  whisper,  but  most  amiable  to  stand  and  stare. 

A  gentleman  of  leisure  who  lives  on  the  opposite  corner  invited 
us,  at  the  alcalde’s  request,  to  take  our  meals  with  him  while  we 
are  here.  His  dining-room  is  cold  and  damp  and  we  were  almost 


FROM  PARAMO  OF  PISVA  TO  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  203 


persuaded  to  follow  our  host’s  example  and  keep  our  hats  on 
during  dinner. 

April  15 th.  Laguna  Seca  seems  to  be  quite  prosperous  and  the 
houses  are  in  good  repair,  although  there  does  not  appear  to  be  any 
business  done  here,  and  the  few  little  shops  have  almost  nothing  for 
sale  besides  fresh  meat,  candles,  matches,  and  tobacco.  We  had  to 
wait  all  day  to  give  the  mules  a  rest  and  to  allow  Luis  to  go  back 
to  the  Paramo  and  rescue  the  saddles  and  saddle-bags  that  the  negroes 


A  Corner  oe  the  Plaza  at  Laguna  Seca. 


left  behind  them.  They  were  too  heavy  a  load  for  the  negroes  to 
carry,  but  Luis  says  they  weigh  nothing.  Josh  has  heretofore  con¬ 
sidered  himself  the  most  powerful  fellow  in  sight,  but  his  spirit  is  now 
quite  broken  and  he  is  as  helpless  as  a  babe.  Richard  has  more 
nerve  and  continues  to  carry  my  camera  and  the  plate-holders.  They 
both  marvel  at  the  endurance  of  the  hitherto  despised  Indians. 

Rice  had  a  busy  day.  His  patients  brought  eggs,  cassava,  and 
fowls.  One  woman,  who  brought  two  large  fowls,  came  with  a  poor 
mother  who  had  walked  ten  miles  with  a  blind  baby  in  her  arms. 
The  baby  had  two  great  ulcers  where  the  pupils  of  its  eyes  ought  to 


204 


COLOMBIA 


have  been.  Rice  told  the  mother  that  the  blindness  might  have 
been  cured  had  the  trouble  been  treated  in  time,  but  that  there  was 
no  hope  now.  It  was  a  rather  harrowing  half-hour  for  all  of  us, 
except  the  two  fowls,  who  made  themselves  quite  at  home  cackling 
and  scratching  in  the  dirt  floor  of  our  room. 

The  alcalde  asked  if  he  “might  bring  the  doctor  a  number  of  poor 
people,  who  were  ill  enough  to  be  sent  to  the  nearest  hospital  if  they 
could  only  get  a  doctor’s  certificate.”  As  there  is  no  physician  here, 
he  said  it  seemed  providential  that  these  unfortunates  could  at 
last  be  furnished  with  the  requisite  papers.  Rice  told  him  to  bring 
them  along.  Presently  four  wretches  were  ushered  in.  Not  till  then 
were  we  told  that  they  were  lepers.  Rice  examined  them  and  de¬ 
clared  that  they  had  nothing  worse  than  sundry  disgusting  skin 
diseases.  But  they  were  not  pleasant  guests.  Towards  evening 
one  of  the  chief  citizens  of  the  town  was  brought  in  for  examination. 
He,  too,  was  supposed  to  have  leprosy,  but  his  trouble  turns  out  to  be 
only  an  eruption  of  the  skin. 

April  i6th.  Another  clear,  fine  day.  We  rose  early,  but  it  was 
nearly  four  hours  before  the  caravan  was  ready  to  start.  No  one  who 
has  not  been  through  it  can  understand  how  it  can  possibly  take  so 
long  to  catch,  saddle,  and  load  a  few  mules.  Such  deliberation  exists 
in  no  other  part  of  the  world,  I  am  sure.  Even  Polynesians  when 
they  have  something  on  hand  to  be  done  move  with  comparatively 
lightning-like  rapidity.  Truly  the  main  requisite  for  travelling  here 
is  patience. 

The  road  from  New  Socha  to  Old  Socha  is  a  fairly  wide  trail, 
rocky  and  steep  in  places,  quite  impassable  for  any  kind  of  wheeled 
vehicles,  but  so  much  wider  than  anything  we  had  seen  for  a  long 
time  that  it  seemed  like  a  king’s  highway.  We  met  many  people  on 
the  way,  most  of  them  in  rags  and  tatters. 

The  view  to  the  west  across  the  great  valley  of  the  Sogamoso  was 
magnificent.  There  were  very  few  trees  to  be  seen  except  poplars  and 
an  occasional  eucalyptus.  We  saw  several  old-fashioned  ploughs  in 
use,  the  same  pointed  sticks  that  have  served  since  time  immemorial. 
With  one  hand  on  the  plough  and  the  other  goading  his  yoke  of  oxen, 
the  farmer  scratches  the  surface  of  the  ground  sufficiently  to  plant 
his  crops.  We  passed  on  the  road  several  water-power  gristmills. 


FROM  PARAMO  OF  PISVA  TO  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  205 


Two  wretched  women  ran  all  the  way  to  Old  Socha  in  front  of  us 
this  morning,  by  order  of  the  alcalde,  to  be  examined  for  leprosy. 
They  had  no  trace  of  the  dread  disease,  but  one  looked  like  a  witch 
and  the  other  had  a  syphilitic  nose.  They  were  outcasts  but  not 
lepers.  The  people  hereabouts  seem  to  be  quite  carried  away  with 
the  idea  that  every  one  who  has  a  bad  skin  disease  is  a  leper.  We 
saw  no  actual  leprosy  in  this  valley. 

The  alcalde  rode  with  us  to  his  house  in  Old  Socha,  where  he 
gave  us  some  hot  chocolate  and  buns,  and  explained  that  we  were  in 
the  very  house  where  Bolivar  wrote  his  dispatches.  He  then  kindly 
accompanied  us  for  a  short  distance  out  of  the  village  before  announ¬ 
cing  his  intention  of  returning.  We  halted  to  say  good-by,  when  he 
gave  us  to  understand  that  we  owed  him  some  money;  namely,  fifty 
cents  for  our  arriero  because  he  had  slept  on  the  floor  of  the  hall  with 
our  luggage,  and  one  dollar  for  our  own  board.  He  explained  that 
our  own  room  was  free  and  also  corn  for  our  mules,  in  return  for 
Rice’s  free  dispensary  and  the  diagnosis  of  numerous  “leprosy” 
cases.  As  a  matter  of  fact  even  the  inns  make  no  charge  for  a  room, 
but  only  for  food.  It  is  the  custom  of  the  country  to  give  shelter 
whenever  it  is  requested.  Furthermore  we  had  been  entertained  as 
guests  at  a  private  house.  The  alcalde  had  craftily  waited  until  he 
had  got  all  the  medical  advice  free  and  could  not  possibly  get  any 
more  before  he  said  a  word  about  these  ridiculous  little  charges; 
petty  graft,  annoying,  but  not  serious. 

In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  came  in  sight  of  the  town  of 
Tasco.  At  a  distance  it  seemed  to  be  most  attractive  with  its  white 
walls,  red  roofs,  and  white  church  towers.  On  the  hillside  above  was 
a  cemetery  enclosed  with  a  circular  adobe  wall.  As  was  to  be  ex¬ 
pected,  however,  Tasco’s  attraction  vanished  on  closer  acquaintance 
and  we  did  not  stop.  For  weeks  every  town  that  we  have  seen  has 
meant  a  stay  of  one  or  two  nights,  sometimes  more,  so  we  quite 
enjoyed  the  novel  sensation  of  hurrying  through  the  village  without 
even  alighting  for  a  meal.  We  knew  it  was  still  some  distance  to 
Corrales,  but  as  the  road  was  so  much  better  than  anything  we  have 
had  since  leaving  the  plains,  we  determined  to  risk  going  as  far  as 
possible  before  dark. 

We  saw  many  evidences  of  the  religious  feelings  of  the  people. 


206 


COLOMBIA 


Roadside  crosses,  sometimes  made  of  palm  branches  and  flowers, 
probably  erected  on  the  last  Holy  Day,  were  common.  On  the  walls 
of  houses,  the  words  “Viva  Maria”  or  “Viva  Jesus”  occasionallv 
appeared. 

Imposing  roadside  gateways  are  becoming  a  conspicuous  feature 
of  the  landscape.  There  is  little  individuality  in  their  design,  the 
only  difference  between  the  gates  being  in  the  care  with  which  they 
are  made,  the  present  state  of  repair,  and  their  size.  In  general,  the 
posts  and  lintel  are  of  adobe,  the  gate  itself  of  vertical  bars  of  roughly 
hewn  wood.  Sometimes  there  is  a  gate  when  there  is  no  fence,  but 
in  this  country  of  many  sheep,  fences  and  walls  are  very  frequent. 
Most  of  the  gates  have  rude  crosses  attached  to  them. 

About  five  o’clock  we  came  to  a  fine,  large  hacienda  or  farmhouse, 
surrounded  by  rich  fields  of  maize  where  scores  of  labourers  were 
finishing  the  day’s  work.  Luis  thought  we  had  better  stop  here  for 
the  night,  but  we  were  refused  shelter  in  truly  civilized  fashion.  It 
is  the  first  time  that  such  a  thing  has  happened,  and  it  made  us  realize 
that  we  are  at  last  out  of  the  wilds.  Hoping  to  find  a  roadside  tavern 
we  went  on  as  rapidly  as  possible.  The  road  wound  along  the  side 
of  the  great  treeless  Sogamoso  valley,  continually  traversing  lateral 
ridges,  climbing  and  descending,  until  finally  it  descended  rapidly  to 
the  level  of  the  river  in  a  gorge  of  great  natural  beauty.  We  crossed 
the  stream  on  a  high,  narrow  bridge  with  no  railing  on  either  side. 
The  roaring  torrent,  confined  between  precipitous  hills,  was 
very  impressive  in  the  moonlight.  Beyond  the  gorge  we  came  out  on  a 
little  meadow  where  the  river  was  lined  with  a  few  stately  poplars. 
Altogether  it  was  a  romantic  scene. 

We  reached  Corrales  between  seven  and  eight  o’clock  and  found 
one  of  our  two  arrieros  at  a  wretched  chicheria  frequented  by  the 
lowest  class  of  travellers.  The  odours  were  too  much  for  us,  and  we 
asked  to  be  taken  to  the  alcalde’s.  As  it  was  after  dark,  he  was  sus¬ 
picious  and  not  inclined  to  do  more  for  us  than  to  direct  that  our 
mules  should  be  sent  to  his  pasture,  for  he  is  the  local  stableman,  and 
that  we  should  go  back  to  the  dirty,  filthy  little  tavern.  Luis  arrived 
an  hour  later.  It  was  then  discovered  that  each  arriero  thought  the 
other  had  three  mules  while  he  had  only  two,  and  in  the  darkness 
the  best  white  mule  with  the  most  precious  part  of  the  luggage  had 


FROM  PARAMO  OF  PISVA  TO  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  207 


gone  astray.  As  the  lost  mule  carried  our  trunks  that  contained  all 
of  Rice’s  surgical  instruments  and  photographic  films,  besides  my 
journal,  maps,  and  three  hundred  dollars  in  gold,  Luis  at  once  started 
back  to  search  for  him. 

April  ijth.  Corrales  is  a  compact  little  town  lying  near  the 
Sogamoso  river  on  its  left  bank.  Above  it  on  the  hillside  is  its  ceme¬ 
tery  surrounded  by  an  adobe  wall.  This  style  of  graveyard  seems 
to  be  quite  common  in  the  valley. 


Corrales  Across  the  Sogamoso  Valley. 


This  plateau  is  nine  thousand  feet  above  sea  level,  so  that  the 
nights  are  quite  cool.  We  slept  out  of  doors  in  the  inn  yard  amid 
horrid  smells  and  noises.  Our  eagerness  to  pass  Tasco  yesterday 
cost  us  a  day  of  aggravating  delay,  as  we  have  had  to  wait  here  in 
Corrales  for  the  lost  mule  to  be  found  and  brought  back.  The  delay 
enabled  me  to  visit  a  hilltop  to  get  a  better  idea  of  the  valley  and  of 
the  skirmishes  of  Gameza  and  Las  Molinas.1 

The  alcalde  brought  a  friend  this  morning  to  have  him  examined 

1  See  Appendix  A. 


2oS 


COLOMBIA 


The  Valley  Below  Corrales. 


for  some  disease  or  other,  ‘‘leprosy”  perhaps,  but  Rice  was  so  dis¬ 
gusted  with  our  surroundings,  the  way  the  last  alcalde  had  robbed  us, 
and  the  extremely  inhospitable  reception  by  this  one  last  evening, 
that  he  declined  to  make  any  examination  for  less  than  “ten  dollars 
gold,  paid  in  advance.”  That  ended  his  career  as  a  travelling 
physician,  and  we  had  no  more  patients.  The  travelling  free  dis¬ 
pensary  business  had  become  a  great  nuisance,  but  at  last  it  is  over. 

April  iS th.  The  alcalde,  in  brown  woollen  poncho,  high-crowned 
panama  hat,  dark  blue  striped  trousers  and  fibre  sandals,  attended  our 
departure  with  dignity  this  morning,  but  did  not  offer  to  escort  us  out 
of  the  town.  He  came  in  fact  solely  in  his  character  as  livery  stable- 
keeper,  to  furnish  us  with  two  horses  for  the  negroes  to  ride  from  here 
to  Boyaca  and  to  collect  the  charges  for  the  pasture  of  our  mules. 

We  met  many  pack  trains  today,  mostly  of  mules  laden  with 
salt  from  the  government  mines  at  Zipaquira.  We  passed  many 
sheep,  sometimes  tied  or  hobbled,  sometimes  shepherded  by  diminu¬ 
tive  boys  and  girls  or  haggard  old  women.  The  word  shepherdess  has 
a  romantic  flavour  and  is  not  at  all  appropriate  to  the  horrible  old  hags 
that  tend  sheep  here.  Rice  and  I  agreed  that  we  had  never  in  our 


FROM  PARAMO  OF  PISVA  TO  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  209 


lives  seen  so  many  ugly  women  as  we  have  today.  Most  of  them  are 
in  wretched  rags.  All  seemed  to  be  hard  at  work.  Some  women 
were  helping  the  labourers  in  the  fields,  while  others  were  spinning 
wool  by  hand  in  the  manner  seen  in  the  valley  of  Paya,  where  the 
women  spin  cotton.  Between  eleven  and  twelve  we  saw  women 
bringing  black  pots  of  caldo,  a  kind  of  vegetable  soup  or  potpourri, 
to  their  husbands  who  were  at  work  in  the  fields,  and  to  the  school 
children  at  recess.  With  each  pot  they  brought  a  wooden  spoon  and 
a  shallow  bowl  of  native  pottery  picturesquely  marked  with  green 
and  blue  enamel. 

Portreros  or  paddocks  are  very  frequent,  and  every  inch  of 
ground  between  the  rocky,  barren  hills  and  the  swamps  in  the  centre 
of  the  valley  seems  to  be  utilized  for  agriculture  or  pasturage.  Judg¬ 
ing  from  the  extreme  flatness  of  the  valley  and  the  abrupt  way  in 
which  the  hills  rise  from  its  edge,  it  looks  very  much  as  though  it 
must  once  have  been  a  great  lake,  in  fact  in  the  rainy  season  much 
of  it  becomes  a  lake. 


The  Plaza  at  Nobsa. 


The  chief  features  of  the  landscape  are  the  tall  poplars  and  adobe 
fences.  The  mountains  are  bare  of  trees.  At  times  the  view  reminds 
one  of  Southern  France,  particularly  on  account  of  the  long  lines  of 
poplars.  Shortly  before  reaching  Nobsa,  a  dilapidated  old  town,  once 


210 


COLOMBIA 


important  but  now  quite  decayed,  we  saw  a  barbed  wire  fence*  It 
looked  entirely  out  of  place;  the  adobe  walls  seem  to  be  so  much 
more  appropriate. 

FromNobsa  the  view  of  the  city  of  Sogamoso  on  the  east  side  of  the 
valley  is  quite  attractive.  The  glistening  white  towers  of  its  churches 
rise  above  the  green  trees  that  shade  the  streets.  We  should  like  to 
visit  it,  but  as  we  are  endeavouring  to  follow  the  principal  route  of 
the  army,  we  must  pass  it  by  and  likewise  Santa  Rosa,  the  capital  of 
the  Province  of  Tundama,  which  lies  on  the  hills  northwest  of  us. 


The  Valley  of  the  Sogamoso,  Below  Nobsa. 


Passing  through  Nobsa  we  came  before  long  to  a  cart  road  which 
President  Reyes  is  building  from  Sogamoso  to  Duitama.  We  had 
heard  great  tales  of  it.  To  our  intense  surprise  we  found  it  to  be  a 
really  fine  macadamized  road,  twenty  feet  wide,  well  constructed  and 
laid  out  with  considerable  engineering  skill.  The  section  nearest 
Sogamoso  was  not  completed,  but  for  several  miles  we  rode  in  admira¬ 
tion  over  a  highway  that  would  have  been  a  credit  even  to  France. 
Few  country  roads  in  the  United  States  can  compare  with  it.  Trees 
had  been  planted  on  the  hillsides  above  it  to  prevent  landslips.  It 
was  well  drained  and  the  grade  was  very  easy.  Work  is  still  progress¬ 
ing  and  it  gives  an  earnest  of  better  days  for  Colombia. 


FROM  PARAMO  OF  PISVA  TO  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  21 1 


We  reached  Duitama  shortly  before  five.  It  is  the  largest  town 
we  have  seen  yet  and  has  three  hotels.  It  is  famous  for  its  fruit. 
As  we  entered  the  town,  we  passed  through  orchards  where  peaches 
and  apples  were  growing  side  by  side  with  oranges.  The  citizens 
have  a  smart  appearance.  Some  of  the  young  men  are  almost  too 
smart.  This  afternoon  we  were  passed  by  a  number  of  these  dandies 
riding  pacing  horses  at  a  rapid  gait.  Their  costume  is  a  high-crowned 
straw  hat  that  looks  something  like  a  Panama,  a  woollen  poncho  of 
various  colours,  shorter  and  not  so  heavy  as  the  gorgeous  red  and 
blue  ponchos  of  the  Llaneros,  and  wonderful  baggy  overalls  made  of 
cloth  or  the  skins  of  animals  cured  with  the  hair  on.  Nearly  all 
carried  a  yellow-handled  whip  like  the  arrieros.  They  were  inclined 
to  regard  us  with  suspicion  and  to  show  off  the  paces  of  their  horses. 
One  of  them  turned  out  to  be  the  local  doctor,  who  boards  at  our 
hotel.  He  eats  with  his  hat  on,  looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  to 
the  left.  After  supper  he  doffed  his  conventional  riding  clothes  and 
appeared  in  all  the  glory  of  a  Derby  hat  and  a  black  cutaway  coat. 
It  almost  made  us  homesick  for  the  simplicity  of  the  Llanos. 

April  19 th.  The  weather  is  constantly  cool  and  damp.  We  are 
lodged  in  a  musty  old  room,  but  it  looks  out  on  a  pleasant  court, 
bright  with  many  flowers  and  enlivened  by  half  a  dozen  song  birds 
whose  wicker  cages  hang  in  the  cloisters.  We  have  been  unable  to 
get  any  coffee  of  late  and  the  crude  native  chocolate  that  everybody 
drinks  has  made  me  ill. 

The  most  intelligent  person  here  is  the  civil  engineer  who  is  in 
charge  of  the  road  building  in  this  part  of  the  country.  This  after¬ 
noon  he  took  us  on  an  excursion  to  a  near-by  hill  top  from  which 
we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  upper  Sogamoso  valley.  It  gave  us  an 
excellent  idea  of  the  campaign  preceding  the  battle  of  Pantano  de 
Vargas.  We  received  calls  from  the  local  dignitaries,  two  of  whom 
are  maternal  uncles  of  the  President.  Another  caller  was  a 
Colombian  who  spent  twenty-five  years  exploring  rubber  fields  in 
the  Amazon  valley  and  has  twice  been  to  New  York.  He  speaks 
English  quite  well.  I  was  told  afterwards  that  he  had  been  obliged 
to  flee  from  the  country  for  political  or  other  reasons.  He  went 
south  through  Ecuador  and  reached  Peru  alone  and  on  foot;  thence 
he  crossed  the  mountains  to  the  Amazon  and  joined  the  Reyes 


212 


COLOMBIA 


brothers  in  their  explorations.  He  is  said  to  have  made  a  fortune 
by  his  discoveries  in  the  Amazon  region.  He  was  recently  permitted 
to  return  to  Colombia  and  is  once  more  enjoying  the  beauties  of  his 
fertile  native  valley.  We  are  to  visit  his  estate  tomorrow. 

A pril  20 th.  Accompanied  by  four  or  five  gentlemen  of  Duitama, 
including  the  road  engineer  and  one  of  the  President’s  uncles,  we 
visited  today  the  vale  of  Bonza  and  the  battle-field  of  Pantano  de 
Vargas. 

A  new  road  has  been  built  along  the  edge  of  swamps,  while  the 
old  one,  still  used  by  horsemen,  goes  over  a  hill.  From  its  top  we 
got  a  fine  view  of  the  valley.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  lies  the  Casa  de 
Bonza.  Here  we  entered  an  enclosure  where  a  number  of  fine-look¬ 
ing  cows  were  being  milked  and  where  we  were  met  by  a  few  gentle¬ 
men  who  had  gathered  for  the  purpose  of  showing  us  the  points  of 
historic  interest  in  the  neighbourhood.  The  house,  which  is  being 
repaired  and  restored  to  its  original  splendour  by  our  friend  the 
Amazonian  explorer,  is  that  very  Casa  de  Bonza  where  Bolivar  had 
his  headquarters  during  the  days  preceding  the  battle  of  Pantano  de 
Vargas.  It  is  of  two  stories,  built  around  three  sides  of  a  court,  the 
fourth  side  left  open  to  allow  all  the  rooms  to  take  advantage  of  the 
beautiful  view  across  the  valley  to  the  south.  It  was  once  the  home 
of  a  Spanish  marquis  who  espoused  the  cause  of  Independence. 

After  some  light  refreshments,  including  huge  glasses  of  fresh, 
warm  milk  and  ponies  of  “three  star  Hennessey,”  we  started  off  on 
our  “historical  picnic.”  Among  those  who  had  joined  us  at  the  villa 
were  three  worthies  from  the  town  of  Paipa.  One  of  them,  a  stout 
old  gentleman  with  an  imperial,  was  the  perfect  counterpart  of  many 
a  southern  planter,  while  another,  a  huge,  broad-shouldered,  almost 
deformed  giant,  was  the  wit  of  the  party  and  the  centre  of  consider¬ 
able  raillery.  With  a  large  head  set  close  to  tremendous  shoulders, 
thick  lips  protruding  from  under  a  heavy  moustache,  and  a  straggly, 
wiry  beard,  he  looked  like  Vulcan.  He  rode  a  splendid  white  horse 
like  the  general  of  a  great  army. 

Thus  escorted  we  went  first  to  the  spot  called  Corral  de  Bonza, 
where  the  Spaniards  had  an  outpost  from  which  they  were  driven 
some  days  before  the  more  important  battle  of  Pantano  de  Vargas. 
Crossing  a  bridge  over  the  Sogamoso,  now  quite  small  and  known  as 


FROM  PARAMO  OF  PISVA  TO  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  213 


the  Rio  Grande,  we  were  told  that  at  the  time  of  the  battle  it  was  much 
swollen  and  Bolivar  required  over  forty  rafts  to  ferry  his  soldiers 
across. 

It  was  not  a  long  ride  from  here  to  a  little  adobe  house  said  to 
have  been  Bolivar’s  headquarters  during  the  battle  of  Pantano  de 
Vargas.  The  house  is  occupied  by  a  modest  gentleman  of  moderate 
means,  whose  resources  were  somewhat  strained  by  the  invasion  of  a 
dozen  historical  enthusiasts,  but  he  did  nobly,  and  although  the 
assignment  of  scrambled  egg  was  about  one  teaspoonful  to  each 


The  Picnic  Party  at  Corral  de  Bonza. 


person,  we  all  had  plenty  to  eat,  especially  as  the  humorous  giant 
of  the  party  opened  his  saddle-bags  and  brought  out  cold  potatoes, 
sardines,  and  hunks  of  boiled  beef.  We  were  shown  spots  on  the 
floor  said  to  have  been  made  by  the  blood  of  wounded  soldiers,  and  a 
large  wooden  settee  on  which  gallant  Colonel  Rook  of  the  British 
Legion  was  laid  when  he  had  his  arm  amputated  after  the  battle, 
and  on  which  he  died. 

More  interesting  than  these  relics  was  a  manuscript  which  had 
been  brought  by  one  of  the  gentlemen  from  Paipa.  His  father,  Don 
Elias  Prieto  Villate,  lately  deceased,  made  his  life’s  work  the  collect¬ 
ing  of  evidence  for  an  authentic  history  of  the  two  battles  of  Pantano 


214 


COLOMBIA 


clc  Vargas  and  Bovaca.  His  admirers  claim  that  the  manuscript 
was  begun  the  day  after  the  battle  and  finished  shortly  before  the  old 
gentleman  died,  a  year  ago,  at  the  age  of  eighty-five.  He  was  born 
a  couple  of  years  after  the  events  took  place  and  says  in  his  preface 
that  he  began  collecting  data  about  the  battles  “at  an  early  age.” 

The  manuscript  is  full  of  interesting  particulars  and  minute  details, 
and  as  the  old  antiquary  took  pains  to  record  the  sources  from  which 
he  derived  his  information,  it  seems  to  be  more  reliable  than  any 
other  account. 


The  Battle-field  of  Pantano  de  Vargas. 


After  lunch  “Vulcan”  put  on  his  spectacles  and  read  aloud  to  us 
page  after  page  of  the  precious  manuscript.  The  reading  threatened 
to  take  up  the  entire  afternoon,  so  we  had  to  interrupt  in  order  to 
spend  some  time  on  the  battle-field  and  see  things  for  ourselves. 

The  road  from  Duitama  to  Tunja  via  Toca  is  at  this  point  ex¬ 
tremely  narrow  bv  reason  of  a  steep  hill  on  the  east  and  a  wide  swamp, 
the  Pantano  de  Vargas,  on  the  west.  The  Spaniards  took  up  a  very 
strong  position,  but  the  British  Legion  attacked  so  fiercely  that  the 
result  was  a  drawn  battle.  In  the  darkness,  however,  the  Spanish 
General  Barreiro  decided  to  withdraw  to  Paipa.  Bolivar  was  thus 
left  free  to  march  to  Tunja  and  thus  get  between  Barreiro  and  Bogota. 


FROM  PARAMO  OF  PISVA  TO  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  215 


In  many  wavs  Pantano  de  Vargas  was  a  more  important  victory  than 
the  battle  of  Boyaca.  It  was  not  definitive  and  is  not  so  well  known. 
Nevertheless  it  seems  clear  to  me  that  it  put  the  Spaniards  on  the 
defensive  and  gave  Bolivar  the  upper  hand.  Boyaca  saw  the  end 
of  the  Spanish  army  in  Colombia,  but  Pantano  de  Vargas  was  the 
decisive  victory. 


CHAPTER  XII 


From  Pantano  de  Vargas  to  Boyaca 

The  battle-field  of  Pantano  de  Vargas  offers  none  of  the  difficulties 
that  we  encountered  at  Carabobo.  The  country  is  open  and  rather 
barren.  The  field  of  action  was  quite  limited  and  there  does  not 
seem  to  be  much  chance  for  a  variety  of  opinion.  We  completed  our 
study  of  the  battle-field  late  in  the  afternoon  and  went  to  Paipa  over 
the  same  road  that  Barreiro  followed  in  his  retreat.  It  passes  over 
the  barren  hills  west  of  the  field  of  action,  descends  a  hill  where 
erosion  has  laid  bare  beds  of  wonderfully  variegated  clays,  and 
traverses  a  valley,  celebrated  for  its  hot  springs,  before  it  reaches  the 
outskirts  of  Paipa.  Our  kind  friends  from  Duitama  and  Casa  de 
Bonza  returned  from  the  battle-field  by  the  way  they  came.  The  three 
from  Paipa  escorted  us  over  the  route  of  Barreiro’s  retreat. 

In  the  valley  we  passed  a  magnificent  country  seat  or  hacienda, 
built  in  the  Spanish  style  in  the  middle  of  a  treeless  plain.  The  estab¬ 
lishment  was  complete  from  stable  to  chapel.  The  various  build¬ 
ings  were  most  picturesquely  grouped  and  joined  by  covered 
passages.  It  was  a  marvellous  combination  of  courts  and  cloisters, 
pillared  balconies  and  graceful  arches;  the  whole  covered  with  rich 
red  tiles  that  harmonized  wonderfully  with  the  many-coloured  clays 
in  the  surrounding  hills.  The  sky  line  was  perfectly  fascinating. 

A  mile  beyond  this  hacienda  are  the  hot  springs  of  Paipa.  They 
are  heavily  charged  with  sulphate  of  sodium.  Rice  tried  to  take  the 
temperature  of  the  water,  forgetting  that  his  thermometer  did  not 
read  above  1150  F.  The  result  was  a  broken  bulb.  It  seems  curious 
that  there  is  no  thermal  establishment  here.  In  a  cold,  damp  climate 
like  this,  one  would  think  that  hot  baths  would  be  well  patronized. 
A  small  plant  which  once  did  a  good  business  providing  sodium  sul¬ 
phate  for  the  factories  that  make  beer  bottles  for  the  brewery  in  Bogota 
came  to  grief  in  the  last  revolution  and  is  still  in  ruins  as  the  soldiers 

216 


FROM  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  TO  BOYACA 


217 


left  it.  It  is  rather  significant  that  the  first  sign  of  modern  business 
enterprise  which  we  have  seen  in  this  country  should  be  the  ruins  of  a 
factory  destroyed  in  the  course  of  a  revolution.  Is  there  any  better 
answer  to  the  question  why  these  countries  are  still  far  behind  in  the 
race  of  civilization?  Until  capitalists  can  be  sure  that  revolutions 
are  a  thing  of  the  past,  few  will  have  the  temerity  to  erect  factories 
or  import  machinery  likely  to  be  the  sport  of  soldiers.  President 
Reyes  has  a  hard  problem  on  his  hands,  but  seems  to  be  solving  it 
admirably,  so  far  as  one  can  judge  by  the  new  roads  and  the  general 
evidences  of  quiet  and  prosperity. 

Our  Paipa  friends  piloted  us  to  a  very  good  hotel,  a  two-story 
affair  where  we  have  made  ourselves  as  comfortable  as  possible,  con¬ 
sidering  the  fact  that  our  baggage  animals  are  miles  away  and  we  shall 
have  to  use  the  bedding  provided  by  the  hotel.  In  other  words,  it  will 
be  scratch,  scratch,  scratch  all  night  long.  Luis,  Josh,  and  the  pack 
mules  left  Duitama  this  morning,  taking  the  main  road  to  Tunja. 
We  expect  to  overtake  them  tomorrow. 

This  evening  we  met  a  German  who  says  he  originated  and 
managed  the  sulphate  of  sodium  plant  at  the  hot  springs.  He  seems 
much  discouraged  although  he  talks  of  renewing  business  soon. 
He  is  the  second  German  we  have  seen  since  leaving  northern  Vene¬ 
zuela,  the  other  being  a  commercial  traveller  at  Nunchia. 

The  soup  habit  continues  in  full  force;  the  custom  of  the  better 
class  of  inns  hereabouts  being  to  have  one  soup  for  breakfast,  two 
soups  for  lunch,  and  three  soups  or  stews  for  dinner.  The  latter  meal 
generally  consists  of  five  courses. 

April  21  st.  As  we  left  Paipa  this  morning  the  country  people 
were  thronging  into  town  for  early  mass.  Most  of  them  were  on 
foot;  a  very  few  were  riding.  One  fine  lady  was  on  the  most  gaily 
appointed  side  saddle  or  sofa  saddle  that  I  have  ever  seen.  It  was 
shaped  like  a  small  settee  and  was  upholstered  and  bedecked  with 
many  tassels. 

Occasionally  we  passed  an  attractive  hacienda.  The  road  is  for 
the  most  part  quite  level  and  rather  monotonous.  The  hills  on  each 
side  are  bare  of  trees  and  serve  mostly  as  pasturage  for  large  flocks 
of  sheep.  Birds  are  infrequent.  The  general  aspect  of  the  region 
is  not  one  of  wildness.  The  plateau  plainly  bears  the  marks  of  an 


2l8 


COLOMBIA 


ancient  civilization  that  for  centuries  has  cultivated  the  available 
lands.  We  are  now  on  the  main  highway  of  the  plateau.  It  is 
passable  for  carts  from  Bogota,  north  to  the  frontier  at  Cucuta,  so 
we  are  told.  Although  a  large  part  of  it  is  macadamized,  it  is  used 
chiefly  by  pack  trains  and  we  met  only  one  cart  today.  Just  before 
reaching  Tunja  we  passed  a  “treasure  lake'1  that  is  being  exploited 
and  dredged  by  American  capital.  It  is  said  to  have  been  here  that 
the  ancient  Indian  kings  of  Tunja  took  their  annual  gold  baths  and 
threw  objects  of  gold  into  the  lake. 

We  reached  Tunja  about  five  o’clock.  From  a  distance  it  is 
picturesque,  as  it  lies  on  the  slope  of  a  hill  facing  the  north.  Its  many 
church  towers  are  very  conspicuous  and  it  looks  like  a  fine  city,  but 
on  closer  acquaintance  there  is  too  much  dirt  and  filth,  too  many  bad 
smells  and  unpleasant  sights. 

The  German  we  met  yesterday  directed  us  to  a  “clean  little 
boarding-house  kept  by  two  worthy  old  maids.”  He  said  the  hotels 
here  were  proverbially  bad  and  the  little  boarding-house  was  much 
the  best  place  to  stay.  We  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  it  and  by 
the  time  we  reached  its  portals  were  followed  by  a  crowd  of  fifty  or 
sixty  half-tipsy  Sunday  loafers.  Accordingly  it  was  not  strange 
that  the  proprietress,  who  stood  like  a  dragon  by  the  door,  refused  to 
have  any  parley  with  us  or  admit  us  to  shelter.  We  were  then  directed 
to  the  Hotel  Boyaca,  but  the  yard  was  filthy  and  its  looks  were  against 
it,  so  we  went  in  search  of  another  inn.  A  small  hotel  was  pointed 
out  to  us  on  the  plaza  and  we  tried  to  get  accommodations  there,  but 
were  refused.  It  was  not  surprising.  We  had  neither  of  us  been 
in  a  barber’s  hands  since  the  first  of  January,  and  our  curls,  though 
long  and  picturesque,  were  not  civilized.  Furthermore,  four  months 
of  roughing  it  had  not  improved  the  appearance  of  our  riding  togs. 
We  did  look  rather  like  brigands,  although  we  long  ago  packed  away 
our  guns.  There  had  been  almost  nothing  to  shoot  since  we  left 
Pore. 

In  addition  to  our  disreputable  appearance  the  rapidly  increasing 
crowd  of  Sunday  drunks  at  our  heels  was  enough  to  make  any  respect¬ 
able  hotel  proprietor  chary  of  us.  Suddenly,  as  if  in  protest  against 
our  treatment,  Rice’s  mule,  the  one  with  the  clipped  ears,  lay 
down  like  a  camel  in  front  of  the  inn,  greatly  to  the  amusement  of 


FROM  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  TO  BOYACA  219 

the  crowd.  We  finally  returned  to  the  Hotel  Boyaca,  having  made  up 
our  minds  to  put  up  with  its  dirt.  As  was  to  be  expected  we  were 
promptly  told  that  the  hotel  was  full,  and  there  was  no  room  for  us. 
We  thought  this  was  carrying  the  joke  a  little  too  far  and  accordingly 
had  a  wordy  session  with  the  innkeeper.  After  he  read  our  letters 
of  introduction  he  relented  sufficiently  to  assign  us  a  musty  room  on 
the  ground  floor. 

Tunja  was  once  the  seat  of  a  powerful  native  government  and 
still  has  the  air  of  departed  greatness.  As  the  capital  of  the  province 
of  Boyaca  it  has  a  number  of  public  buildings,  but  they  are  badly 
in  need  of  repair.  There  are  scores  of  little  shops  on  the  principal 
streets,  but  none  that  could  be  called  attractive. 

April  22 d.  Luis,  Josh,  and  the  pack  mules  passed  through  Tunja 
yesterday  and  we  started  early  this  morning  in  pursuit  of  them. 
The  road  south  of  Tunja  was  one  of  the  first  in  Colombia  to  be 
macadamized.  The  work  was  well  done  and  it  is  still  in  fairly  good 
condition,  although  somewhat  eroded.  Hills  rise  on  each  side  from 
one  to  two  thousand  feet  above  it.  It  is  difficult  to  realize  that  these 
are  really  mountains  whose  tops  are  eleven  or  twelve  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea.  As  there  are  no  forests  here  the  fuel  consists  of  dried 
bushes  and  shrubs.  It  reminds  one  of  old  fairy  tales  to  see  women 
and  children  collecting  and  carrying  into  town  great  bundles  of  these 
fagots. 

There  seems  to  have  been  very  little  rain  here  recently  and  the 
grass  is  rather  yellow.  Brilliantly  streaked  clays  exposed  on  the  hill¬ 
sides  by  erosion  add  many  striking  colours  to  the  landscape.  Ever 
since  leaving  Laguna  Seca  we  have  been  slowly  ascending  the  valley 
of  the  Sogamoso,  and  this  morning  we  reached  its  head.  The  road 
now  leaves  the  basin  of  the  Magdalena,  of  which  the  Sogamoso  is  a 
branch,  and  re-enters  that  of  the  Orinoco.  Just  before  climbing 
over  the  divide,  we  came  up  with  our  caravan  installed  in  a  road¬ 
side  tavern.  Josh  had  had  an  accident.  Yesterday  his  steed,  one 
of  those  hired  of  the  alcalde  of  Corrales,  had  become  frisky;  the 
buckle  of  the  reins  had  parted,  Josh  lost  his  head,  and  instead  of  try¬ 
ing  to  reach  for  the  flying  reins  had  attempted  to  dismount  while 
the  horse  was  running  at  full  gallop.  As  a  result  he  had  a  bad  fall 
and  cracked  the  bone  of  his  right  heel.  While  Rice  attended  to  the 


220 


COLOMBIA 


sufferer  and  put  his  heel  into  a  splint,  a  heavy  shower  came  up  and 
delayed  us  for  a  couple  of  hours,  making  the  road  very  slippery. 


When  we  were  ready  to  start,  Josh  took  Richard’s  quiet  little  nag, 
while  Richard  with  my  camera  mounted  the  other  beast,  who  soon 
began  to  slide,  plunge,  and  rear  on  the  muddy  road.  The  performance 


FROM  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  TO  BOYACA 


221 


ended  by  horse,  rider,  and  camera  falling  with  a  crash  into  the  gutter. 
It  looked  like  a  bad  accident,  but  luckily  no  one  was  hurt,  not  even 
the  camera. 

We  reached  an  excellent  inn  near  the  famous  bridge  of  Boyaca 
in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  It  is  just  sixteen  kilometres  from 
Tunja. 

April  2 3d.  There  are  three  roads  from  Paipa  to  Bogota  and  the 
south.  One,  the  best,  goes  through  Tunja.  Another  passes  west  of 
Tunja  and  is  separated  from  it  by  a  high  ridge.  As  Bolivar  by 
occupving  Tunja  had  control  of  the  first  of  these,  Barreiro  endeavoured 
to  reach  the  capital  by  the  next  best.  The  two  roads  meet  at  the 
bridge  over  the  Boyaca  river.  The  abutments  of  the  old  bridge  are 
still  to  be  seen,  but  a  fine  new  bridge  has  been  built  a  hundred  feet  up¬ 
stream.  The  stream  is  not  large  and  is  easily  forded  at  this  season 
of  the  year.  Its  banks  are  partly  covered  with  tall  ferns  and  thick 
bushes.  It  is  a  most  romantic  spot. 

Hills  covered  with  ferns  and  dense  foliage  rise  steeply  on  both 
sides  of  the  little  stream  of  the  Boyaca  above  and  below  the  bridge. 
It  must  have  been  almost  impossible  to  climb  the  hills  on  either  side 
in  the  face  of  any  kind  of  fire.  Barreiro  reached  the  bridge  first  and 
stopped  for  lunch.  As  a  result  he  had  hardly  got  his  army  across 
before  they  were  attacked  by  the  patriot  troops.  Patriot  horsemen 
found  a  ford  lower  down  the  stream  and  attacked  the  Spaniards  on 
flank  and  rear  as  they  were  attempting  to  defend  the  passage  of  the 
bridge  from  the  heights  on  the  south  side  of  the  stream.  The  British 
Lesion  then  made  a  bold  attack  on  the  centre  and  caused  a  com- 
plete  rout.  Barreiro,  his  officers  and  a  large  number  of  his  soldiers 
were  taken  prisoners  and  the  Colombian  War  of  Independence  was 
practically  over.  According  to  the  old  antiquary  of  Paipa,  Bolivar 
was  at  breakfast  in  Tunja  during  the  battle,  and  arrived  here  barely 
in  time  to  receive  Barreiro’s  surrender. 

The  fight  was  short,  sharp,  and  bloody.  Had  Barreiro  defended 
the  lower  ford  and  entrenched  himself  on  the  hills  he  might  have 
held  the  position  long  enough  to  make  good  his  retreat  to  Bogota. 
He  did  have  some  light  artillery  on  one  of  the  hills  and  it  required  no 
little  bravery  on  the  part  of  the  British  Legion  to  make  the  frontal 
attack.  However,  the  Spaniards  had  been  badly  demoralized  by  the 


222 


COLOMBIA 


The  Battle-field  of  Boyaca,  Looking  Southwest. 


FROM  PANTANO  DE  VARGAS  TO  BOYACA 


223 


arrival  of  the  Liberating  Army  over  the  Paramo  of  Pisva  in  the  rainy 
season.  After  Pantano  de  Vargas,  which  was  really  a  drawn  battle, 
their  courage  failed  them  and  they  were  attempting  to  retreat  as  fast 
as  they  knew  how  when  they  were  crushed  at  this  bridge. 

The  difficulties  of  Bolivar’s  campaign  of  1819  and  the  courage 
and  endurance  displayed  by  the  Liberating  Army  have  not  been 
exaggerated.  In  fact  it  is  not  easy  to  portray  them  so  graphically 
that  they  can  be  appreciated  by  those  who  have  not  experienced  the 
trials  of  a  similar  undertaking.  It  is  not  surprising  that  South 
Americans  are  fond  of  comparing  Bolivar’s  feat  to  that  of  Hannibal 
or  Napoleon  crossing  the  Alps. 

It  was  an  undertaking  that  has  few  equals  in  military  history. 
The  long  tedious  march  over  the  Llanos  in  the  wet  season  when 
torrential  rains  turn  the  plains  into  vast  lakes  and  interminable 
swamps;  the  absence  of  any  food  except  newly  killed  beef;  the 
prevalance  of  malaria;  the  necessity  of  enduring  terrible  heat  in  the 
middle  of  the  day  and  penetrating  cold  at  night,  of  wading  treacher¬ 
ous  swamps  and  swimming  flooded  rivers,  their  clothes  rotten  and 
torn  to  shreds;  the  terrors  of  the  Paramo;  the  weak  and  enfeebled 
condition  of  the  men;  the  loss  of  their  animals;  and  all  in  the  face  of 
an  enemy  that  outnumbered  them.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  royalist 
army  was  demoralized  by  such  an  exhibition  of  courage.  The  moral 
effect  of  the  march  can  hardly  be  overestimated.  The  battles  of 
Pantano  de  Vargas  and  Boyaca  were  fought  without  any  exhibition 
of  strategy.  They  were  won  by  men  who  first  dismayed  their  adver¬ 
saries  by  accomplishing  an  unheard-of  feat  and  then  fought  with 
tenacious  courage. 

Finally  it  should  never  be  forgotten  that  a  large  proportion,  more 
than  one  half,  of  the  men  who  marched  from  the  banks  of  the  Apure 
to  Boyaca  were  Bolivar’s  faithful  allies,  the  soldiers  of  the  British 
Legion.  Colombia  has  acknowledged  the  debt  she  owes  that  brave 
regiment  by  placing  its  name  in  a  prominent  position  on  the  monu¬ 
ment  that  has  been  erected  near  the  Bridge  of  Boyaca. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


From  the  Bridge  of  Boyaca  to  Bogota 

April  2 2>d  (con.).  We  left  the  posada  after  lunch,  crossed  the 
new  bridge  and  climbed  out  of  the  valley.  The  road  is  good,  but  the 
hilltops  have  much  of  the  characteristic  aspect  of  a  paramo,  stunted 
vegetation,  no  trees,  and  a  chilling  bleakness.  Our  cargo  mules 
seemed  to  have  recovered  entirely  from  their  mountain  climbing  and 
reeled  off  five  kilometres  an  hour  on  the  macadamized  cart  road  with 
little  difficulty.  After  passing  this  little  paramo,  we  went  down  into 
another  valley,  still  in  the  Orinoco  system,  and  came  to  a  beautiful 
region  dotted  with  numerous  farms  and  giving  every  sign  of  being  a 
prosperous  agricultural  district.  Far  ahead  we  could  see  a  rather 
forbidding  mountain  pass.  Two  thousand  feet  below  it  in  a  valley 
nestled  Turmeque,  a  medium-sized  town,  but  the  road  crept  along 
the  edge  of  the  valley  and  did  not  descend  to  the  town. 

We  stopped  at  an  excellent  inn  called  Fa  Cascada.  The  ordinary 
traveller  from  Tunja  to  Bogota  spends  his  first  night  here,  unless 
he  has  to  travel  slowly  with  pack  mules.  The  people  of  the  inn 
were  unusually  obliging  although  we  reached  there  some  time  after 
dark. 

April  24 th.  Fa  Cascada  is  a  one-story  affair  built  around  a 
pretty  court  in  which  are  blossoming  violets,  poppies,  various  kinds 
of  geraniums,  pansies,  roses,  daisies,  lilies,  verbenas,  iris,  and  carna¬ 
tions;  altogether  quite  a  gay  and  festive  sight. 

The  popular  drinks  in  this  region  are  Hennessey’s  one  star  brandy, 
lager  beer  brewed  by  Germans  in  Bogota,  and  guarapo  or  chicha, 
a  filthy  native  barley  beer  drunk  in  immense  quantities  by  the  lower 
classes. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  inn  we  climbed  the  cold  paramo  to  an  alti¬ 
tude  of  nine  thousand  six  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  There  were  few 
trees  to  be  seen,  but  sheep  were  abundant  and  nearly  all  the  women 


224 


FROM  THE  BRIDGE  OF  BOYACA  TO  BOGOTA 


225 


we  met  were  spinning  wool  by  hand  in  the  ancient  manner.  Black 
sheep  are  in  demand,  as  the  natives  prefer  black  wool  for  their 
ponchos.  Nearly  two  thirds  of  every  flock  are  black. 

We  passed  an  extraordinary  number  of  beggars,  in  fact  the  road 
seemed  to  be  lined  with  them.  Their  little  thatched  shelters  appeared 
at  almost  every  turn.  Some  had  loathsome  diseases,  while  others 
appeared  to  have  nothing  wrong  with  them.  Their  whining  requests 
followed  us  for  miles.  Another  cultivated  valley,  another  stream, 
more  barren  hills  or  rather  treeless  mountain  tops,  another  paramo 
at  a  height  of  ninety-six  hundred  feet,  and  we  left  the  basin  of  the 
Orinoco  and  descended  gradually  into  a  still  more  fertile  valley,  part 
of  the  plateau  of  Bogota. 

Two  wandering  musicians  with  guitars,  whom  we  overtook,  kept 
up  a  weird  instrumental  duet  as  they  walked  along  mile  after  mile. 
At  first  it  was  rather  pleasant  but  it  soon  became  very  monotonous. 
The  mules  would  not  walk  fast  enough  to  get  ahead  of  the  noise,  and 
it  did  not  seem  to  be  worth  while  to  wait  and  let  the  noise  get  ahead 
of  us.  Fortunately,  the  energetic  musicians  stopped  at  a  tavern 
when  they  reached  the  wretched  village  of  Hato  Viejo,  while  we 
pushed  on  to  Choconta. 

Our  appearance  makes  the  proprietors  of  respectable  hotels  shy 
of  us.  The  cross  old  woman  in  charge  of  the  inn  at  Choconta  said 
all  the  rooms  were  taken.  We  insisted  on  having  quarters,  however, 
and  at  last  she  assigned  us  a  cell  that  had  neither  light  nor  ventilation. 
This  we  refused  point-blank,  and  were  given  a  very  good  room  and 
good  food.  The  crowd  that  gathered  in  front  of  the  inn  to  watch  us 
unload  was  rather  insolent  and  allowed  their  curiosity  to  get  the 
better  of  their  manners.  We  are  not  getting  very  favourable  impres¬ 
sions  of  these  interior  cities. 

April  25 th.  We  have  repeatedly  noticed  the  absence  of  games 
since  leaving  northern  Venezuela,  where  bowling  was  very  popular. 
But  here  at  Choconta  we  saw  both  men  and  boys  playing  the  old- 
fashioned  ball  and  cup  game. 

The  plaza  has  a  public  fountain  where  water-carriers  go  to  fill 
their  casks  by  means  of  bamboos  with  which  they  guide  the  water 
from  the  upper  part  of  the  fountain  into  the  cask.  Near  the  fountain 
sit  the  pedlers  of  green  fodder.  They  have  to  keep  a  watchful  eye 


226 


COLOMBIA 


on  the  water-carriers’  hungry  donkeys  who  stand  near  by  waiting  for 
their  casks  to  be  filled. 

The  people  we  see  are  roughly  divided  into  two  classes:  hard¬ 
working  peons,  generally  polite  and  obliging,  who  toil  all  day  in  the 
fields  or  carry  heavy  loads  on  the  roads,  stopping  only  for  their 
“soup”  from  eleven  to  eleven-thirty;  and  the  townies  or  “smarties” 
who  feel  quite  superior  to  their  hard-working  countrymen.  They 
are  very  rude,  seem  to  have  nothing  to  do  except  to  laugh  at  one 
another’s  witticisms,  never  offer  to  help  an  arriero  who  is  in  trouble 
with  his  loads,  and  are  altogether  the  most  disagreeable  persons  we 
have  met  on  our  journey. 

The  arrieros  are  not  attractive  in  appearance,  but  they  work  hard. 
Their  costume  is  nearly  always  the  same,  a  coarse  woollen  poncho 
reaching  below  the  elbows,  cheap  cotton  pantaloons  rolled  up  above 
the  knees  out  of  the  mud  in  the  highway,  sandals  to  keep  the  soles  of 
their  feet  from  getting  cut  and  bruised,  and  high-crowned  “panama” 
hats.  Each  carries  a  whip  made  of  six  feet  of  rawhide  with  a  yellow 
wooden  handle  nearly  a  yard  long. 

As  we  were  leaving  Choconta  this  morning,  we  saw  a  man  carry¬ 
ing  an  umbrella,  the  first  seen  in  several  months.  Somehow  it  looked 
strangely  out  of  place.  When  it  rains,  the  poncho  which  every  one 
wears  here  to  keep  off  heat  and  cold,  dust  and  showers,  protects 
everything  but  the  hat.  Those  who  can  afford  to  do  so  have  little 
oil-silk  slips  with  which  they  cover  their  hats  as  soon  as  the  first  drops 
begin  to  fall. 

We  left  Josh  and  Richard  at  Boyaca  to  wait  for  horses  which  we 
engaged  for  them  in  that  vicinity.  They  have  not  caught  up  with 
us  yet,  but  it  is  quite  a  relief  to  be  free  from  hearing  their  hourly 
complaints.  They  are  not  enjoying  Colombia.  On  the  Llanos 
negroes  are  rare  and  we  saw  none  in  the  villages  east  of  the  mountains. 
Although  our  men  attracted  considerable  notice  it  was  of  a  pleasant 
sort,  quite  in  accordance  with  the  friendly  disposition  of  the  inhabi¬ 
tants.  But  here  on  the  plateau  many  people  are  really  rude,  and  the 
poor  blacks  are  frequently  hooted  at  in  the  streets  of  the  cities.  In 
Corrales  a  crowd  of  boys  followed  Josh  wherever  he  went  and  de¬ 
lighted  in  annoying  him.  In  Duitama  and  in  Nobsa  a  howling  mob 
followed  him  about  all  the  time.  In  Venezuela  he  was  very  proud 


FROM  THE  BRIDGE  OF  BOYACA  TO  BOGOTA  227 

and  haughty,  even  provokingly  so,  but  he  has  been  much  humbled 
in  the  last  few  days.  Since  we  left  Limbo  six  weeks  ago  he  has  been 
absolutely  useless  as  a  servant,  but  had  to  be  taken  along  as  a  pas¬ 
senger  since  we  could  not  discharge  him.  We  shall  be  very  glad 
when  we  can  get  rid  of  him.  There  have  been  times  when  he  was 
indispensable,  as  at  Cano  Guato;  but  most  of  the  time  he  has  been 
entirely  without  nerve,  initiative,  or  courage. 

The  scenery  continually  reminds  one  of  the  south  of  France. 
The  poplars,  the  lazy  streams,  the  smoothness  of  the  hills  and  the 
small  area  of  the  fields,  give  it  a  markedly  European  aspect.  Bright 
rose-hued  lilies  are  now  in  bloom  and  add  a  touch  of  gorgeous  colour 
to  the  barren  hillsides. 

We  frequently  meet  pack  trains  loaded  with  large  blocks  of  rock 
salt  from  the  Zipaquira  mines.  It  is  unrefined  and  when  crushed 
for  the  table  looks  like  gray  sand.  Most  of  the  pack  animals  are 
mules  and  horses.  Pack  oxen  one  rarely  sees  and  burros  are  not 
very  common.  They  are  slower  than  the  mules  and  cannot  carry 
as  much,  while  their  fodder  costs  about  the  same.  The  number  of 
pack  trains  is  large  enough  to  support  many  posadas  and  portreros. 
Some  of  the  portreros  or  enclosed  pastures  have  adobe  walls,  built  in 
sections  very  much  like  concrete,  each  section  representing  the  size 
of  the  portable  mould  in  which  the  soft  clay  is  packed  down  by  the 
feet  of  the  workmen  and  their  wooden  pestles.  Other  portreros  are 
surrounded  by  moats  of  a  curious  pattern.  Two  lines  of  holes  two 
feet  deep  are  dug  side  by  side.  Barely  enough  earth  is  left  between 
eiach  hole  to  keep  the  sides  from  caving  in.  The  narrow  walls  be¬ 
tween  the  holes  make  the  ditches  easier  to  dig,  and  keep  animals  from 
crossing.  Mules  could  easily  descend  and  cross  a  ditch  made  with¬ 
out  these  partitions;  and  a  good  horse  could  jump  it.  But  a  tired 
pack  animal  rarely  cares  to  attempt  to  cross  the  chain  of  pitfalls. 
A  few  of  the  portreros  are  surrounded  by  stone  walls.  Gates  like 
those  seen  in  the  Sogamoso  valley  continue  to  be  common,  although 
occasionally  the  pattern  changes  slightly.  The  country  is  densely 
populated.  I  counted  fifty  farms  on  a  single  hillside.  This  after¬ 
noon  we  saw  a  big  harvesting  machine  of  English  make  being  pulled 
along  the  road  by  ten  yoke  of  oxen. 

As  we  entered  the  great  plain  of  Bogota,  the  road  grew  worse  and 


228 


COLOMBIA 


at  times  the  mud  was  up  to  the  mules’  bellies.  Before  long  we 
turned  sharply  off  to  the  right,  leaving  the  main  cart  road,  in  order 
to  reach  the  Northern  Railroad  which  has  recently  been  extended 
beyond  Zipaquira.  It  was  quite  exciting  to  be  so  near  a  railroad 
and  we  almost  jumped  from  our  saddles  when  we  heard  the  shrill 
screech  of  a  steam  whistle  not  far  off.  It  turned  out  to  be  a  steam 
threshing  machine,  much  to  our  disappointment. 

During  the  afternoon  we  had  heavy  showers,  the  roads  grew  worse, 
and  one  of  the  pack  mules  threatened  to  give  out.  Rice  and  I  went 
ahead  with  the  other  four  and  left  Luis  to  coax  the  tired  animal  along 
as  best  he  could. 

After  climbing  over  a  steep  ridge,  we  entered  Nemocon.  It  has 
three  or  four  “hotels,”  but  we  were  directed  by  some  wag  to  a  very 
humble  posada  kept  by  two  old  ladies.  They  were  most  obliging, 
however,  and  made  no  pretence  that  their  establishment  was  “ocu- 
pado.”  Hardly  had  we  reached  the  inn  when  a  smart  young  horse¬ 
man  rode  up  to  Rice  and  in  a  few  words  of  broken  English  told  him 
“our  man  had  hurt  himself,”  laughed  immoderately  and  rode  off. 
He  was  gone  before  we  could  question  him.  As  Luis  did  not  arrive 
we  were  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  probably  been  kicked 
by  the  tired  mule  and  taken  refuge  in  some  roadside  tavern. 

The  railroad  station  and  yard  is  not  yet  completed  here,  but  a 
work  train  leaves  every  morning  at  six  o’clock  for  Zipaquira,  whence 
there  is  a  daily  train  to  Bogota.  This  we  might  expect  to  catch 
tomorrow  were  Luis  here  with  the  other  load.  As  it  is  we  are  within 
hearing  of  the  train  and  yet  seem  destined  to  remain  for  an  indefinite 
period.  Josh  and  Richard  have  not  appeared  but  they  have  money 
enough  to  reach  Bogota  alone. 

A pril  26 th.  There  are  many  evidences  of  prosperity  in  Nemocon. 
The  barroom  of  the  little  posada  is  crowded  every  night.  Large 
quantities  of  ckicha  are  brewed  daily  in  the  back  yard.  All  the  local 
peons  are  hard  at  work  under  Colombian  overseers  building  the  rail¬ 
road  station  and  the  yards.  Considerable  other  building  is  going 
on.  Two  new  hotels  have  just  been  completed.  A  new  transpor¬ 
tation  company  has  opened  offices  here  and  advertises  to  take 
goods  into  the  interior.  A  photographer,  the  first  we  have  seen 
since  leaving  Valencia,  has  opened  an  establishment  next  to  the 


FROM  THE  BRIDGE  OF  BOYACA  TO  BOGOTA  229 

church  on  the  plaza.  There  is  actually  an  atmosphere  of  business 
in  the  place. 

We  waited  some  time  this  morning  for  Luis  to  appear,  hoping 
that  he  had  not  been  badly  hurt.  At  noon,  as  we  could  get  no  word 
of  him  from  persons  who  came  over  the  road,  Rice  took  his  kit  of 
surgical  instruments  and  went  back  to  see  if  he  could  find  him.  Two 
hours  later  Luis  turned  up  from  the  other  direction.  It  seems  he 
was  not  hurt  at  all,  had  been  only  half  an  hour  behind  us  yesterday 
and  had  passed  right  by  the  wretched  little  posada  in  which  we  were 
stopping.  The  mischievous  populace  told  him  we  had  gone  on  to 
Zipaquira  and  he  tried  his  best  to  overtake  us,  only  to  discover  even¬ 
tually  that  he  had  passed  us.  Hardly  had  Luis  finished  his  tale 
when  Rice  returned  from  his  fruitless  search  and  with  him  the  two 
negroes.  We  found  that  the  work  train  would  carry  passengers  but 
not  luggage,  so  we  left  the  negroes  to  spend  the  night  at  the  inn  and 
rode  on  to  Zipaquira  with  Luis  and  the  pack  mules. 

We  left  Nemocon  about  half-past  four  and  reached  Zipaquira  at 
eight  o’clock.  The  road  was  very  bad  but  quite  level.  It  runs 
through  a  pretty  country.  Large  eucalyptus  trees  are  the  most 
noticeable  feature  of  the  landscape. 

It  gave  me  a  queer  feeling  to  dismount  in  front  of  the  hotel  at 
Zipaquira  and  realize  that  the  long  ride  was  at  last  over.  I  felt  loath 
to  part  with  my  mule,  “  Blackie,”  who  had  carried  me  faithfully 
through  treacherous  swamps  and  over  slippery  mountain  trails, 
never  stumbling  and  always  willing  to  go.  Of  the  five  mules  bought 
in  Valencia,  she  was  the  only  one  able  to  perform  the  whole  journey. 
At  the  end  she  was  perfectly  sound  and  had  neither  back  nor  girth 
sore.  She  cost  eighty-eight  dollars  in  Valencia,  but  we  thought  our¬ 
selves  fortunate  to  sell  her  to-day  for  thirty  dollars.  Had  it  been 
feasible  I  should  have  liked  to  take  her  home  with  me. 

The  hotel  at  Zipaquira  deserves  its  reputation  of  being  the  clean¬ 
est  and  most  attractive  in  Colombia.  The  guests  were  numerous 
but  extremely  polite  and  courteous  towards  the  two  ragged,  long¬ 
haired  foreigners. 

April  27 th.  Luis,  our  faithful  Colombian  arriero,  brought  the 
loads  down  to  the  station,  where  we  bade  him  good-by.  He  was 
thoroughly  reliable  from  first  to  last,  always  cheerful  and  courteous 


230 


COLOMBIA 


to  us,  although  heartily  despising  the  poor  negroes,  whose  inability 
to  do  anything  well  was  not  lost  on  him.  They  joined  us  at  the  sta¬ 
tion,  coming  down  on  the  work  train  from  Nemocon. 

The  distance  from  Zipaquira  to  Bogota  is  about  thirty  miles  by 

train,  but  the  first- 
class  fare  is  only 
seventy  cents.  I  tried 
to  buy  tickets  with 
gold  coin,  but  the 
gold  ounces  were  re¬ 
fused  by  the  clerk. 
Surely  it  is  a  strange 
custom  that  makes 
gold  and  silver  to  be 
looked  at  askance. 
While  wondering 
what  I  was  to  do,  I 
overheard  some  one 
addressing  a  well- 
dressed  gentleman  in 
the  crowd  by  a  name 
that  sounded  ex¬ 
tremely  familiar.  It 
turned  out  that  he 
was  formerly  a  na¬ 
tive  of  Arauca  for 
whom  I  carried  a  let¬ 
ter  of  introduction 
from  the  Colombian 
Minister  at  Washing¬ 
ton.  He  proved  to 

be  a  friend  in  need,  for  he  at  once  helped  us  out  of  the  difficulty  and 
persuaded  the  station  master  to  accept  our  gold. 

The  excess  charges  on  our  luggage  were  very  small,  less  than  a 
couple  of  dollars;  rather  different  from  our  last  experience,  on  the 
German  Railway  at  Caracas.  Many  of  the  passengers  had  ridden 
down  to  the  Zipaquira  station  and  sent  their  horses,  saddled  and 


Blackie  and  her  Master  on  the  Last  Day’s 
March. 


FROM  THE  BRIDGE  OF  BOYACA  TO  BOGOTA 


231 


bridled,  into  the  baggage  car.  As  we  stopped  at  various  stations, 
the  owners  would  lead  their  horses  off  the  train,  mount  and  gallop 
rapidly  off  before  the  train  got  under  way  again.  They  all  wore  the 
wonderful  baggy  leggings  that  are  the  fashion  here. 

The  railroad  journey  lasted  a  little  over  two  hours,  but  did  not 
seem  so  long  to  the  unsophisticated  wanderers. 

The  cars  were  very  old  and  almost  worn  out.  The  conductor  of 
our  train,  an  English-speaking  Colombian,  had  served  on  the  Panama 
railroad  and  also  as  supercargo  on  one  of  the  New  York  steamers. 
To  add  to  our  pleasure  a  newsboy  came  through  the  train  and  we 
were  once  more  able  to  see  a  morning  paper.  When  one  has  not 
seen  a  printed  cable  dispatch  for  five  months,  it  is  quite  exciting  to 
be  able  to  read  the  morning  news  of  the  world. 

The  Northern  Railroad  passes  over  a  fairly  level  plain.  The 
mountains  are  too  far  off  to  be  imposing  until  just  as  one  reaches 
Bogota.  For  the  last  half-hour  of  the  journey,  the  train  passed 
through  the  suburbs  of  the  capital,  built  between  the  mountains  on 
the  east  and  a  swampy  plain  on  the  west.  We  saw  a  few  pretty  villas 
and  just  before  reaching  the  city  passed  the  country  club  with  its  polo 
field. 

Bogota  is  not  impressive  as  one  approaches  by  train,  although 
the  mountains  rise  abruptly  back  of  it  and  the  little  white-walled 
monasteries  on  their  summits  add  a  look  of  romance  to  the  place. 
The  city  itself  is  too  flat  to  admit  of  one  getting  any  view  without 
climbing  the  hills  on  the  other  side  of  the  city  from  the  railroad 
station. 

There  was  the  usual  excitement  at  the  station,  porters  and  carters 
struggling  for  patronage  and  passengers  trying  to  get  away  as  soon  as 
possible.  After  engaging  a  cart  and  seeing  it  safely  loaded  with  our 
luggage,  we  drove  to  the  Hotel  Frese  on  the  Plaza  Bolivar  in  a  one- 
horse  victoria,  a  poor  imitation  of  those  used  in  Caracas.  The  hotel 
clerk,  as  might  have  been  foreseen,  received  us  most  coldly.  He  said 
all  the  rooms  were  occupied  and  did  not  seem  inclined  to  bother  about 
us.  One  could  hardly  blame  him.  We  scarcely  realized  how  travel- 
stained  and  unkempt  we  were.  The  next  best  hotel  to  the  Frese  is 
the  Metropolitano,  but  there  we  had  no  better  luck.  Not  desiring 
to  drive  all  over  the  city  we  requested  the  clerk  to  telephone  to  some 


232 


COLOMBIA 


of  the  other  hotels  and  find  out  whether  they  had  room  for  us.  We 
thought  that  in  this  way  we  might  secure  a  room  before  they  had  seen 
what  we  looked  like.  These  must  have  been  warned  by  something 
in  the  clerk’s  voice,  however,  for  all  with  one  accord  declared  their 
inability  to  receive  us.  It  was  long  past  lunch  time.  We  had  had 
a  very  early  breakfast  and  it  may  be  imagined  were  somewhat  tired 
and  rather  hungry,  but  it  struck  us  as  a  huge  joke,  this  arriving  at  the 
end  of  our  journey  only  to  be  told  that  there  was  no  room  for  us  any- 


The  American  Legation,  Bogota. 


where  in  a  city  of  150,000  inhabitants.  Fortunately,  Major  Heimke, 
the  American  Charge  d’Affaires,  most  hospitably  came  to  the  rescue, 
opened  the  legation  to  us  and  gave  his  two  undesirable  fellow-citizens 
a  room.  After  lunch  at  a  neighbouring  cafe,  we  spent  the  rest  of  the 
day  reading  the  letters  that  had  been  accumulating  since  December. 

April  28 th.  After  four  months  of  dirt  and  filth,  it  is  very  com¬ 
fortable  to  be  in  a  carefully  dusted  house,  free  from  insects.  No 
house  ever  seemed  so  clean  as  the  legation,  nor  has  civilized  food 
ever  tasted  so  good.  It  appears  that  Bogota  is  really  full  of  visitors, 
as  the  National  Assembly  or  Congress  is  now  in  session.  The  hotels 


FROM  THE  BRIDGE  OF  BOYACA  TO  BOGOTA 


233 


are  very  small,  even  the  Frese  has  only  eight  or  nine  rooms.  Bogota 
is  not  accustomed  to  taking  care  of  many  travellers  at  one  time. 

A pril  29 th.  We  paid  off  the  negroes  today,  and  sent  them  home. 
None  of  us  seemed  particularly  sorry  at  the  parting. 

While  at  Valencia  we  spent  seven  hundred  dollars  for  mules  and 
supplies.  This  does  not  include  what  we  paid  for  the  larger  part  of 
our  outfit,  which  was  bought  in  the  States,  nor  for  our  transportation 
to  Valencia.  Since  leaving  Valencia  we  have  paid  out  nine  hundred 
dollars,  gold.  The  largest  items  of  expense  were  wages,  oxen,  and 
mules.  In  Venezuela  my  account  book  shows  very  few  items  ending 
in  S.05.  In  eastern  Colombia  such  items  increase  rapidly.  After 
we  crossed  the  mountains  and  reached  the  valley  of  Sogamoso,  items 
ending  in  $.02  and  $.03  are  fairly  common.  The  charge  for  pastur¬ 
ing  an  animal  over  night  was  often  only  three  or  four  cents.  The 
average  charge  for  meals  along  the  road  was  twenty-five  cents, 
twenty  cents  at  the  smaller  posadas  and  thirty  at  the  larger  ones. 

Our  journey  took  one  hundred  and  fifteen  days,  instead  of  sixty 
days  as  we  had  estimated  when  we  left  Caracas.  How  little  those 
who  have  always  lived  within  the  bounds  of  civilization  know  of  the 
vexful  delays  and  incredible  obstacles  of  the  wilderness.  One  of 
my  letters  reached  the  very  kernel  of  our  needs  when  it  closed  with 
the  words:  “Patience  and  courage  be  with  you  from  day  to  day.” 
The  unforeseen  difficulties  of  the  way,  the  prevalence  of  disease  and 
the  interminable  delays,  required  all  we  had  of  both  qualities. 

Our  estimates  had  been  based  on  the  experience  of  travellers 
who  had  gone  from  Caracas  to  Bogota  by  the  regular  overland 
route.  This  passes  through  Valencia  to  San  Carlos,  leaves  the 
Llanos  near  San  Carlos,  enters  the  Andes  near  Barquisimeto,  and 
follows  the  plateau  between  the  Eastern  and  the  Central  Cordillera 
via  Merida,  Cucuta,  Santa  Rosa,  and  Tunja.  This  route  from 
Caracas  to  Bogota  is  described  by  Colonel  Duane  in  his  “Visit  to 
Colombia”;  by  the  anonymous  author  of  “Letters  written  from 
Colombia”  who  passed  over  it  in  1822  and  1823,  and  by  others.  So 
far  as  I  am  able  to  discover  we  are  the  first  travellers  who  have 
attempted  to  go  from  Caracas  to  Bogota  by  way  of  Barinas,  Arauca, 
and  the  Paramo  of  Pisva. 

Naturally  some  parts  of  the  route  have  been  described  by  previous 


234 


COLOMBIA 


writers.  The  section  between  Caracas  and  San  Carlos  may  be 
found  depicted  in  Duane  and  many  other  books.  A  bare  itinerary 
of  the  road  from  San  Carlos  to  Barinas  is  given  as  an  appendix  to 
Col.  Francis  Hall’s  “Colombia”;  but  I  can  find  no  other  account  of 
this  part  of  our  road.  Codazzi  and  other  authors  of  geographies 
have  described  the  general  aspect  of  the  country  and  given  statements 
in  regard  to  the  cities,  but  the  journey  itself  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  delineated.  Nor  can  I  find  any  account  of  the  road  from 
Barinas  to  the  Apure  River  and  Arauca.  Baron  von  Humboldt 
crossed  the  central  Llanos  from  Cura  to  San  Fernando  de  Apure,  but 
did  not  penetrate  the  western  Llanos.  Our  route  from  Arauca  to 
El  Limbo,  as  I  have  already  said,  is  described  by  Brisson  in  his 
“Casanare.”  He  also  depicts  the  larger  part  of  the  road  from  El 
Limbo  to  Pore.  But  he  did  not  attempt  the  Paramo  of  Pisva,  and  I 
can  find  no  description  of  our  route  from  Pore  to  Pisva,  the  Paramo, 
Laguna  Seca,  and  Duitama. 

The  road  from  Duitama  to  Bogota  is  well  known  and  is  described 
by  Mollien,  Duane,  and  others. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


Bogota 

May  7 th.  We  take  most  of  our  meals  at  a  smart  little  cafe  that 
has  a  gay  clientele  of  young  doctors  of  law  and  medicine.  The 
waiters  are  ragged  and  barefooted,  and  have  some  customs  which 
it  is  just  as  well  to  overlook.  Coffee  and  tea  are  served  in  the  same 
kind  of  pots,  both  look  pretty  black,  so  how  is  the  waiter  to  know 
which  is  which  without  sticking  his  nose  into  the  top  of  each  pot 
whenever  he  is  about  to  pour  out  your  beverage? 

The  food  seemed  excellent  at  first,  but  after  a  while  grew  monoto¬ 
nous.  I  imagine  the  pots  are  not  cleaned  with  hot  water  and  soap! 
An  orchestra  of  five  pieces  plays  twice  a  day  and  an  Italian  vender 
of  coloured  souvenir  post  cards  frequents  the  place  in  the  evening. 
He  has  a  large  collection  of  reproductions  of  paintings  and  drawings 
from  Europe,  but  no  pictures  of  Bogota. 

May  10th.  Bogota  has  a  charm  of  its  own.  One  of  the  most 
entertaining  features  is  the  mixture  of  European  and  Colombian  cos¬ 
tumes  which  one  sees  in  the  streets.  The  peons  or  manual  labour¬ 
ers  all  wear  high-crowned  “Panama”  hats,  coarse  woollen  ponchos 
of  variegated  designs,  nondescript  pantaloons  and  sandals.  The 
student  class,  the  young  doctors  of  law  and  medicine,  and  generally 
the  young  men  about  town,  wear  Derby  hats  and  tailor-made  suits 
with  cutaway  coats.  Derbies  are  also  worn  by  the  business  men, 
but  grave  gentlemen  carrying  umbrellas  and  wearing  high  silk  hats 
and  frock  coats,  as  in  London,  are  almost  always  in  sight.  Fu¬ 
nerals,  weddings,  feast  days,  “occasions”  of  every  sort,  call  for  this 
formal  dress.  The  contrast  between  the  silk  hats  and  the  high- 
crowned  Panamas,  the  frock  coats  and  the  coarse  ponchos,  one  so 
conventional  that  it  would  be  unnoticed  on  Piccadilly,  the  other  so 
strange  and  outlandish  as  to  gather  a  crowd  even  at  Coney  Island, 

235 


236 


COLOMBIA 


is  very  striking.  It  reminds  one  of  Japan,  where  the  men  are  inclined 
to  abandon  their  picturesque  dress  for  conventional  European  attire. 

One  sees  the  same  difference  in  the  ladies’  dress,  although  women 
do  not  appear  often  on  the  streets.  Conservative  ladies  and  those  of 
the  poorer  classes  wear  the  old-fashioned  simple  black  gowns,  cover¬ 
ing  their  heads  with  black  shawls  or  black  lace  mantillas.  In  marked 


Bogota,  Looking  North  on  one  of  the  Princi?al  Streets. 

contrast  to  these  are  the  followers  of  more  modern  fashions,  whose 
smart  Parisian  costumes,  surmounted  by  gay  picture  hats,  strike  one 
as  curiously  bold  and  out  of  place.  It  is  so  long  since  we  have  seen 
ladies  attired  in  anything  but  black  that  it  seems  almost  immodest, 
this  display  of  colours  and  gaudy  raiment.  Some  of  the  well-dressed 
daughters  of  the  smart  set  spend  hours  leaning  out  of  second-story 
windows  staring  at  the  passers-by.  We  are  told  that  it  is  a  mark  of 
consideration  and  respect  to  stare  and  make  remarks,  but  to  an  Anglo- 
Saxon  it  is  a  disagreeable  custom. 

The  temperature  here  is  colder  than  we  had  been  led  to  expect. 


BOGOTA 


237 


It  is  generally  below  6o°  F.  There  is  almost  no  time  in  the  day 
when  the  thermometer  in  the  shade  goes  as  high  as  65°  F.  Although 
it  does  not  go  much  below  50°  F.  at  night,  the  air  is  so  damp  that  the 
cold  is  very  penetrating.  As  the  houses  are  not  heated  and  it  is  not 
comfortable  to  sit  long  in  a  temperature  of  fifty-eight,  it  is  the  custom 
to  walk  a  great  deal  in  the  streets  in  order  to  get  warm.  There  are 
few  carriages  and  the  sidewalks  are  very  narrow,  so  the  streets  are 
often  filled  with  pedestrians.  The  corners  of  the  principal  thorough¬ 
fares  are  the  favourite  loafing  places.  There  one  can  stand  in  the 
middle  of  the  street  as  long  as  one  pleases,  chatting  with  friends  and 
observing  the  passing  throng.  The  practice  of  carrying  walking 
sticks  is  not  as  prevalent  in  Bogota  as  in  Caracas,  where  one  almost 
never  sees  a  man  without  one.  The  streets  are  well  policed.  At 
night  the  officers  carry  rifles  and  signal  to  each  other  with  sad-toned 
whistles.  It  is  an  excellent  device  for  avoiding  trouble.  No  burglar 
need  come  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  a  policeman  if  he  keeps  his 
ears  open  to  their  mournful  signals. 

One  sees  no  coin  whatever  in  circulation.  There  are  several  little 
shops  here  that  buy  gold  and  silver.  American  gold  is  at  a  premium; 
other  foreign  and  Colombian  gold  at  a  discount.  A  gold  ounce, 
Mexican  or  Spanish,  worth  in  Venezuela  $16.40,  does  not  fetch  more 
than  $13.00  here.  American  Express  checks  on  New  York  readily 
sell  at  a  two  per  cent  premium,  both  here  and  in  Caracas.  I  have 
not  seen  a  silver  coin  in  Bogota.  An  American  told  me  that  as  a 
joke  he  offered  a  newsboy  a  five-dollar  gold  piece  in  exchange  for 
a  paper  worth  five  cents,  but  the  boy  thought  it  worthless  and 
refused  it. 

A  curious  thing  is  the  lack  of  large  bills.  We  have  not  seen  any 
of  a  denomination  larger  than  one  hundred  dollars.  As  these  are 
really  worth  only  ninety-eight  cents  in  gold,  one  sometimes  sees  gen¬ 
tlemen  coming  out  of  the  banks  with  their  arms  full  of  bank  notes. 
Apparently  the  people  enjoy  the  sensation  of  talking  in  the  inflated 
terms  of  paper  currency.  One  hears  them  express  great  astonish¬ 
ment  or  admiration  that  a  mule  cost  “ten  thousand  dollars.”  It  is 
not  half  so  interesting  to  say  that  it  cost  a  hundred  dollars  or  that  its 
real  value  in  gold  at  present  is  only  ninety-eight  dollars.  Whether 
or  not  this  depreciated  state  of  the  currency  has  anything  to  do  with 


238 


COLOMBIA 


it,  one  sees  many  more  wretchedly  poor  people  clothed  in  rags  in 
Colombia  than  in  Venezuela. 

The  market  place  in  Bogota  is  much  larger  than  that  in  Caracas 
and  has  a  wonderful  variety  of  edibles.  Fruits  and  vegetables  of 
every  variety  and  description  are  here  exhibited  in  enormous  quanti¬ 
ties.  Fresh  laid  eggs  are  piled  up  by  the  thousand  in  great  heaps. 
Attractive  native  earthenware  carelessly  arranged  in  pvramids 
appeals  strongly  to  a  lover  of  picturesque  pottery.  The  crowds  in 


The  Capitol,  Bogota. 


the  markets  were  so  busy  bargaining  that  my  presence  there  was 
almost  overlooked,  although  I  found  that  I  was  the  tallest  person  in 
Bogota  and  attracted  an  unpleasant  amount  of  attention  on  the 
streets.  Tn  Caracas  whenever  I  visited  the  market  I  was  sure  to  be 
followed  through  it  by  a  crowd  of  loafers  and  boys.  There  do  not 
seem  to  be  nearly  so  many  unemployed  here  and  life  is  not  quite  so 
easy  as  in  the  Venezuelan  capital. 

The  shops  are  remarkable  for  their  number  and  small  size.  In 
the  region  of  the  hat  stores  one  can  count  in  a  single  block  twenty 
establishments  all  devoted  exclusively  to  sombreros,  yet  not  one  of 


BOGOTA 


239 


them  large  enough  to  do  much  business.  The  same  thing  is  true  of 
other  trades.  On  one  street  there  are  scores  of  jewellers,  but  their 
shops  are  very  small  and  unattractive.  Furthermore,  the  shop¬ 
keepers  rarely  make  any  effective  display  of  their  stock.  A  counter 
frequently  runs  directly  across  the  shop  just  inside  the  door  and  pre¬ 
vents  one  from  handling  the  goods  offered  for  sale.  It  is  quite  tan¬ 
talizing  to  be  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  the  clerks,  who  alone  have 
access  to  the  merchandise.  It  may  be  that  it  is  an  old  custom  fol¬ 
lowed  without  rime  or  reason.  The  citizens  of  Bogota  have  not  the 
reputation  of  being  pilferers;  but  it  may  be  they  are  so  incurably 
curious  that  they  need  to  be  forcibly  restrained  from  fingering  the 
stock  in  trade.  Otherwise  it  is  difficult  to  explain  the  cause  of  such 
an  inhospitable  attitude  in  the  shopkeepers.  As  an  offset  to  this 
disadvantage  in  the  way  of  trade,  many  of  the  shops  have  adopted 
a  blackboard  system  and  hang  up  on  their  door-posts  daily  bulletins 
of  goods  “recently  received.” 

There  is  little  red  tape  at  the  banks,  but  the  post-office  tells 
another  story.  One  day  I  went  to  the  old  monastery  that  serves  as  the 
post-office  to  get  a  postal  money  order  to  send  to  the  Syrian  contractor 
whose  mules  brought  us  from  Pore.  I  soon  found  myself  simply 
engulfed  in  a  maze  of  bureaucracy.  After  the  usual  formal  applica¬ 
tion  had  been  written  out  and  signed,  and  the  clerk  had  figured  how 
much  I  had  to  pay,  he  sent  me  off  to  buy  two  kinds  of  stamps.  The 
window  for  postage  stamps  is  in  one  place  and  that  for  revenue  stamps 
is  far  away  across  a  courtyard  in  the  extreme  corner.  I  needed  sixty 
cents’  worth  of  the  revenue  stamps  but  the  clerks  did  not  have  so  large 
an  amount  at  that  office,  so  I  was  directed  to  walk  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
through  the  corridors  and  across  two  large  patios  to  the  other  end  of 
the  post-office  establishment  to  another  revenue  stamp  office  where 
they  had  a  somewhat  larger  supply.  The  various  kinds  of  stamps 
being  now  bought  according  to  directions,  I  returned  by  devious 
winding  passages  to  the  money  order  office,  where  the  stamps  were 
cancelled  and  I  was  given  a  receipt,  duly  grateful  that  it  was  not 
necessary  to  send  money  orders  frequently. 

The  heart  of  Bogota  is  the  Plaza  Bolivar,  a  large  stone-paved 
square  with  a  small  garden  in  the  centre  containing  a  fine  statue  of 
Bolivar.  The  Cathedral,  the  Capitol,  the  leading  hotels  and  the 


240 


COLOMBIA 


The  Cathedral  on  the  Plaza  Bolivar 


offices  of  the  national  lottery  are  to  be  found  here  as  one  would 
expect.  Next  to  the  Cathedral  is  a  chapel  used  chiefly  for  marriages 
and  funerals.  It  is  remarkable  for  the  number  of  fine  old  paintings 
that  it  contains.  Some  of  them  appear  to  have  been  done  in  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  by  Spanish  and  Italian  masters. 

A  mile  north  of  the  Plaza  Bolivar  is  the  Parque  Santander, 
formerly  the  Plaza  San  Francisco.  It  is  attractively  laid  out  and 
contains  a  fine  statue  of  General  Santander.  Wonderfully  restful 
and  satisfying,  the  figure  has  a  noble  head  with  a  distinguished  pro¬ 
file.  In  front  of  the  gardens  are  two  churches  where  fashionable 
weddings  and  funerals  are  held.  These  holy  sacraments  are  cele¬ 
brated  almost  daily  in  one  or  both  of  the  fine  old  edifices.  During 
the  funeral  services  crowds  of  well-dressed  men  in  silk  hats  and 
frock  coats  swarm  about  the  entrance  to  the  church  and  exchange 
the  news  of  the  day  in  low  tones.  As  an  evidence  of  respect  for  the 
deceased,  if  the  friends  of  the  family  are  well  to  do,  a  long  line  of 
carriages  containing  nothing  but  funeral  wreaths  precedes  the  hearse. 


BOGOTA 


241 


and  the  Capitol,  Bogota. 

It  is  the  custom  here,  much  more  than  in  Caracas,  to  placard  the 
deaths  of  such  people  as  have  friends  that  can  afford  the  luxury,  on 
the  bill-boards.  A  poster  two  feet  by  three  feet  announces  in  large 
letters  the  name  of  the  deceased  and  the  hour  and  place  of  the 
funeral.  Funerals  are  not  long  postponed,  and  as  it  is  most  essential 
to  send  flowers  and  attend  the  funeral  of  one’s  acquaintances,  it  is 
well  to  scan  the  bill-boards  twice  a  day. 

On  the  northern  outskirts  of  the  city  is  the  Parque  del  Centenario, 
as  large  as  two  city  blocks,  planted  with  magnificent  eucalyptus  trees. 
It  is  reached  by  the  tram  car,  now  pulled  by  mules  but  soon  to  be 
electrified.  The  streets  are  lighted  by  electricity  and  so  are  many 
of  the  houses.  Curiously  enough,  the  light  is  always  turned  off 
between  5  and  6  p.m.,  so  that  one  is  obliged  to  sit  and  rest  “in  the 
gloaming”  whether  one  feels  so  inclined  or  not. 

A  fine  view  of  the  city  may  be  had  from  the  mountains  east  of  it. 
As  one  walks  eastward  and  climbs  the  hill  the  houses  become  poorer 
and  poorer  until  one  reaches  the  slums,  where  adobe  walls,  thatched 


242 


COLOMBIA 


roofs,  filth  and  smells  are  the  rule.  The  condition  of  the  streets  in 
this  part  of  the  city  is  simply  shocking.  It  is  difficult  to  see  what 
averts  a  pestilence,  as  the  filth  is  washed  by  the  rains  down  through 
the  city. 

Climbing  past  this,  one  comes  out  on  a  fine  driveway  wide  enough 


Parque  Santander,  Bogota. 

to  enable  one  to  escape  the  proximity  of  the  hovels  that  line  its  side. 
This  road  winds  into  the  picturesque  gorge  between  the  two  moun¬ 
tains  back  of  Bogota.  At  the  entrance  to  the  gorge  the  road  passes 
a  spring  to  which  the  city  water-carriers  come  daily  with  their  red 
earthenware  jars  to  get  drinking  water.  The  sparkling  stream  that 


BOGOTA 


243 


flows  through  the  gorge  into  the  city  is  fouled  by  the  washing  of 
clothes,  which  is  done  by  scores  of  women  on  its  banks.  Just  beyond 
the  spring  is  a  gristmill,  while  a  thousand  feet  above,  on  the  tops  of 
the  mountains,  the  white  walls  of  two  monasteries  glisten  in  the  sun¬ 
light. 

At  the  base  of  one  of  the  mountains  is  a  primitive  coal  mine. 
The  miners  put  the  coal 
in  sacks,  sew  up  the 
sacks,  carry  them  on  their 
backs  to  the  surface  of 
the  ground,  place  them 
on  an  exceedingly  primi¬ 
tive  little  car  that  will 
hold  five  or  six  bags,  and 
push  the  car  painfully 
over  a  diminutive  rail¬ 
way,  with  wooden  rails, 
until  it  reaches  the  end 
of  the  line,  sixty  feet  from 
the  mouth  of  the  mine. 

Here  the  car  is  unloaded, 
the  bags  are  carefully 
opened  and  their  sooty 
contents  dumped  over  a 
primitive  separator 
which  divides  the  coal 
into  three  sizes.  Thence 
it  is  shovelled  into  mule 
carts  and  taken  down  the  hill  to  be  sold  in  the  city. 

During  the  past  few  days  I  have  been  reading  Mr.  Petre’s  new 
book  on  Colombia.  His  descriptions  of  what  he  saw  here  are 
admirable.  He  does  not  seem  to  have  gone  very  far  from  the  main 
travelled  route  and  some  of  the  information  about  Colombia  which 
he  gives  at  second  hand  is  not  reliable,  but  the  fault  is  not  entirely  the 
author’s,  for  almost  no  one  here  is  trained  to  see  things  in  a  scientific 
manner.  It  is  not  that  they  intend  to  deceive  you  when  they  reply 
erroneously  to  your  question,  but  that  they  have  not  been  taught 


The  Bogota  Laundry. 


244 


COLOMBIA 


to  observe  accurately.  Consequently  whatever  one  records  as  hear¬ 
say  must  be  received  with  much  caution. 

I  have  had  great  difficulty  getting  boxes  in  which  to  ship  books 
purchased  here.  Packing  cases  represent  almost  the  total  supply  of 
imported  lumber,  and  as  all  kinds  of  lumber  are  scarce,  the  boxes 
are  eagerly  bought  by  carpenters  and  cabinet-makers,  so  that  an 

ordinary  small  pack¬ 
ing  case  is  worth 
“one  hundred  dol¬ 
lars,”  Colombian. 

We  have  only 
had  one  day  of  sun¬ 
shine  since  our  ar¬ 
rival.  Heavy  skies 
and  a  daily  drizzle 
seem  to  be  the  order 
of  things. 

M ay  1 1 th.  This 
afternoon  we  had  an 
appointment  with 
President  Reyes. 
The  executive  man¬ 
sion  is  very  simple 
and  unpretentious. 
Seen  from  the  street 
one  would  hardly 
take  it  to  be  more 
than  a  moderately 
interesting  private 
residence,  except  for 
the  fact  that  there 
arc  a  few  soldiers  on  guard  at  the  entrance  and  at  the  corner  of  the 
street.  Attended  by  our  kind  host,  Major  Heimke,  we  entered  with¬ 
out  being  challenged  by  the  sentries  and  went  to  the  office  of  the 
Secretary  General.  A  few  minutes  later  we  were  ushered  into  the 
large  executive  reception  room,  where  the  President  received  us  very 
cordially  and  unceremoniously.  General  Reyes  is  a  tall,  handsome 


The  Executive  Mansion,  Bogota. 


BOGOTA 


245 


man  of  soldierly  bearing,  with  a  fine  head  firmly  set  on  broad  shoulders. 
He  has  been  a  great  explorer  and  a  successful  soldier;  has  travelled 
extensively  in  Europe  and  the  United  States,  and  speaks  English 
fluently.  He  asked  us  many  questions  about  our  trip  and  was 
much  interested  in  Rice’s  proposed  exploration  of  the  Vaupes. 

The  President  spoke  freely  of  the  needs  of  his  country,  particu¬ 
larly  emphasizing  the  desirability  of  good  roads  and  a  firm  Gov¬ 
ernment.  He  is  a  great  admirer  of  President  Diaz  of  Mexico,  and 
if  his  life  is  spared  will  undoubtedly  endeavour  to  do  for  Colombia 
what  the  latter  has  done  for  Mexico.  Not  long  ago  he  had  a  very 
narrow  escape  from  an  attack  by  three  assassins  who  fired  on  him 
while  he  was  taking  his  daily  drive.  Most  fortunately  he  escaped 
unhurt  and  the  conspirators  were  caught,  tried,  and  shot.  It  was  a 
wholesome  example  to  set  and  since  then  there  has  been  no  trouble. 
As  we  withdrew  the  President  gave  us  several  packages  of  “  Pildo- 
ras  Andinas,”  in  which  medicine  he  is  a  firm  believer.  All  the  sol¬ 
diers  of  the  Colombian  army  take  it  daily  when  they  are  quartered 
in  unhealthy  regions. 

A  few  days  ago  we  attended  a  memorial  celebration  held  in  honour 
of  two  brothers  of  President  Reyes  who  lost  their  lives  while  explor¬ 
ing  with  him  in  the  great  basin  of  the  Amazon  some  years  ago.  The 
first  ceremony  was  the  formal  placing  of  magnificent  wreaths  on 
the  monuments  that  have  been  erected  to  their  memory  in  the  Cathe¬ 
dral.  The  Archbishop  conducted  the  exercises,  and  the  wreaths, 
brought  in  by  soldiers,  were  put  in  place  by  a  committee  of  the 
National  Geographical  Society.  The  legislature,  the  diplomatic 
corps,  and  many  of  the  principal  citizens  were  present.  In  the  after¬ 
noon  there  was  a  meeting  in  the  foyer  of  the  fine  Teatro  Colon,  where 
we  listened  to  the  reading  of  papers  describing  the  work  of  the  Reyes 
brothers.  They  covered  many  thousands  of  miles  in  canoes,  going 
up  and  down  the  great  rivers  of  the  Amazon  valley.  Their  prin¬ 
cipal  discoveries  were  made  on  the  Caqueta  and  the  Putumayo. 
One  brother  died  of  fever  and  the  other  is  supposed  to  have  been 
eaten  by  cannibals.  The  meeting  was  largely  attended,  every  seat 
being  taken. 

In  the  evening  a  grand  concert  was  given  in  the  theatre,  as 
a  final  tribute  to  the  memory  of  the  unfortunate  explorers.  We 


246 


COLOMBIA 


received  special  permission  from  the  Master  of  Ceremonies  to  appear 
in  the  only  decent  garments  we  had.  Everybody  else  was  in  full 
evening  dress.  The  audience  presented  a  gay  spectacle.  In  the 
principal  box  were  the  President’s  daughters  and  son-in-law.  Ladies 
are  not  allowed  to  sit  in  the  orchestra  here  any  more  than  they  are  in 
Caracas,  but  seats  had  been  placed  in  the  enclosure  where  the  mu¬ 
sicians  usually  sit,  and  as  these  were  not  technically  “orchestra 
stalls,”  ladies  were  permitted  to  occupy  them.  The  music  itself  was 
far  superior  to  that  which  we  had  heard  at  the  concert  in  Caracas 
and  the  audience  was  much  more  fashionably  dressed.  The  sym¬ 
phony  orchestra  played  well  and  the  soloists  were  enthusiastically 
received  and  deluged  with  magnificent  floral  offerings.  The  piano 
was  really  a  fine  concert  grand,  while  the  one  we  heard  in  Caracas 
was  like  a  tin  pan. 

May  12th.  We  are  making  many  pleasant  acquaintances.  The 
people  whom  we  meet  seem  to  have  plenty  of  time  in  which  to  enjoy 
life  and  all  practice  the  art  of  good  conversation.  Although  it  is 
the  common  boast  of  people  in  Bogota  that  in  their  city  one  hears 
the  purest  Castillian  spoken  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  I  am  dis¬ 
appointed  in  not  being  able  to  use  my  Spanish  more  often.  A 
majority  of  the  people  we  have  met  speak  English  and  enjoy  prac¬ 
tising  it  on  us.  It  is  quite  remarkable  to  find  that  these  residents 
of  so  isolated  a  capital  speak  English  more  fluently  than  the  residents 
of  Caracas.  Yet  there  are  not  more  than  a  dozen  English  and  Ameri¬ 
cans  in  the  city. 

The  Papal  delegate,  a  delightful  prelate,  lives  with  his  efficient 
secretary  in  a  splendid  palace  that  was  given  him  by  the  Govern¬ 
ment  two  years  ago.  It  appears  to  be  the  finest  private  residence 
in  Bogota.  At  breakfast  there  we  met  the  members  of  the  diplo¬ 
matic  corps  and  their  friends.  It  was  a  very  jolly  occasion.  Span¬ 
ish,  French,  English,  and  Italian  seemed  to  be  used  indiscriminately. 
Needless  to  say  the  breakfast  was  remarkably  good  and  we  appre¬ 
ciated  it  thoroughly. 

We  have  greatly  enjoyed  the  society  of  the  British  Minister,  a 
charming  gentleman  who  has  lived  much  in  Rome .  Through  his 
kindness  I  learned  today  of  the  existence  of  a  large  part  of  the  cor¬ 
respondence  of  Santander.  The  papers  are  in  the  possession  of  a 


BOGOTA 


247 


committee  of  the  Liberal  Party  and  I  hope  to  see  them  tomorrow. 
We  have  learned  to  admire  Santander  exceedingly.  His  career  is  lit¬ 
tle  known  outside  of  Colombia,  but  he  deserves  the  greatest  possible 
praise  for  his  faithful  service  to  his  country.  It  was  largely  due  to 
his  efforts  and  his  courage  that  Bolivar  undertook  his  march  across 
the  Llanos  and  the  Andes. 

May  13th.  Seventeen  days  is  a  short  time  in  which  to  try  to 
secure  correct  ideas  in  re¬ 
gard  to  a  city  of  one  hun¬ 
dred  and  fifty  thousand 
inhabitants.  It  is  easy 
enough  to  see  the  exterior 
life  but  somewhat  difficult 
to  appreciate  the  interior. 

Nevertheless  I  have  been 
asked  here  several  times 
how  Bogota  compares  with 
Caracas.  It  is  a  natural 
question  but  hard  to 
answer. 

In  the  first  place  Bogota 
is  larger,  colder,  consider¬ 
ably  higher,  and  much  more 
isolated  from  the  world. 

Caracas  has  more  sunshine, 
a  more  genial  climate,  and 
a  more  attractive  location. 

The  mountains  near  Bogota 


are  bleak,  barren,  and  for-  ,  „  „ 

Looking  Eastward  from  the  Centre  of 

bidding,  while  the  beautiful  Bogota. 


mountains  that  surround 

Caracas  are  green  to  their  tops  and  have  a  warm  colouring.  Caracas 
seems  to  be  embraced  by  her  beautiful  mountains,  while  Bogota  has 
the  appearance  of  having  climbed  up  out  of  the  swampy  plateau  to 
take  refuge  on  the  side  of  inhospitable  hills.  Notwithstanding  its 
many  earthquakes,  Caracas  has  more  attractive  public  buildings 
than  Bogota.  Its  parks  are  considerably  superior.  It  must  not  be 


248 


COLOMBIA 


forgotten,  however,  that  at  an  elevation  of  three  thousand  feet  in  the 
tropics  it  is  possible  to  raise  many  more  flowers  and  trees  than  at  an 
elevation  of  nine  thousand  feet,  so  that  it  is  not  surprising  that  Bo¬ 
gota  is  unable  to  compete  with  Caracas  for  attractiveness.  Bogota 
has  its  weekly  lottery  drawing,  but  the  tickets  are  not  so  everlastingly 
thrust  in  one’s  face  as  in  Caracas. 

Caracas  is  more  like  Paris,  while  Bogota  resembles  Madrid.  In 
the  same  way  Caracas  is  a  far  more  important  part  of  Venezuela 
than  Bogota  is  of  Colombia.  Bogota  is  of  necessity  more  provincial. 
So  little  happens,  so  few  strangers  reach  this  secluded  capital,  that 
its  inhabitants  naturally  have  more  curiosity.  The  people  of  Caracas 
appeared  to  us  to  be  more  frivolous,  better  dressed,  and  more  pros¬ 
perous  on  the  whole,  and  their  houses  more  comfortable.  In  Bogota 
the  custom  prevails  of  allowing  shops  to  occupy  the  ground  floor 
front,  while  the  most  fashionable  people  live  “up  stairs”  in  the 
busiest  streets.  In  Caracas  society  seems  to  prefer  to  live  in  quiet 
residential  quarters  rather  than  in  the  heart  of  the  shopping  district. 

In  Venezuela  everybody  that  is  anybody  has  been  to  Paris  and 
speaks  French,  while  here  one  hears  very  little  about  Paris,  although 
it  is  evident  that  the  ladies  patronize  Parisian  dressmakers.  Their 
dresses  coming  by  parcels-post  are  somewhat  creased  in  the  mail, 
but  it  is  the  fashion  to  allow  the  creases  to  remain  as  silent  witnesses 
of  the  foreign  origin  of  the  garments.  It  is  whispered  that  the  local 
dressmakers  have  the  habit  of  mussing  their  new  creations  so  as  to 
make  them  appear  Parisian. 

The  cultured  people  of  Bogota  speak  more  languages  and  speak 
them  better  than  their  friends  in  Caracas.  If  they  are  less  travelled 
than  those  of  Caracas,  they  are  better  read  and  better  educated. 
Furthermore,  they  take  genuine  pleasure  in  acquiring  various  accom¬ 
plishments,  writing  sonnets,  and  exchanging  witticisms  and  epigrams. 
Not  infrequently  one  meets  a  gentleman  who  is  something  of  a  poet, 
musician,  historian,  soldier,  politician,  and  wit,  all  combined.  Such 
a  man  is  Don  Jorge  Pombo,  an  interesting  Colombian  who  has  for 
years  collected  books  relating  to  the  history  of  Colombia.  He  is  a 
genuine  book-lover  and  his  books  are  in  remarkably  fine  condition. 
Unfortunately  for  him  he  is  under  the  necessity  of  disposing  of  a  large 
part  of  them,  and  I  hope  to  take  a  good  many  home  with  me. 


BOGOTA 


249 


This  afternoon  I  expected  to  see  the  precious  Santander  manu¬ 
scripts,  but  was  unsuccessful  as  the  committee  who  have  them  in 
charge  were  not  able  to  meet  and  the  President  of  the  bank  where 
they  are  deposited  was  not  to  be  found.  The  mail  left  this  morning, 
but  by  starting  early  tomorrow  and  making  haste  I  hope  to  over¬ 
take  it  and  catch  the  mail  steamer. 

Rice  has  decided  to  stay  here  and  organize  an  expedition  to  dis¬ 
cover  the  source  of  the  Vaupes  River  and  trace  it  to  the  Rio  Negro 
and  the  Amazon. 


CHAPTER  XV 


Bogota  to  Cartagena 

May  14 th.  The  Magdalena  River  is  the  great  natural  highway 
of  Colombia.  It  is  navigable  for  over  eight  hundred  miles,  although 
the  sand  bar  at  its  mouth  prevents  its  being  entered  by  ocean  steamers. 
Six  hundred  miles  from  the  Caribbean  are  the  rapids  of  Honda 
which  do  not  allow  the  river  steamers  of  the  lower  river  to  pass  this 
point,  although  the  upper  river  is  navigable  for  over  two  hundred 
miles.  As  Honda  is  only  eighty  miles  from  Bogota  it  has  long  been 
the  port  of  the  capital.  The  road  between  Bogota  and  Honda  is 
so  bad,  however,  passing  over  such  high  mountains  and  through 
such  deep  valleys,  that  a  new  road  has  been  constructed  to  Girardot, 
a  port  on  the  Magdalena  one  hundred  miles  above  Honda,  near  the 
confluence  of  the  Bogota  River  with  the  Magdalena.  It  is  hoped 
in  time  to  complete  a  railroad  from  Bogota  to  the  Magdalena  by  way 
of  this  valley.  This  route  is  described  in  Mr.  Petre’s  book.  The 
other  and  older  route  is  by  rail  to  Facatativa  on  the  western  edge 
of  the  plateau  of  Bogota  and  thence  by  mule  to  Villeta,  Guaduas,  and 
Honda.  The  mail  still  uses  this  route  as  it  is  more  direct  and  less 
uncertain.  The  steamers  on  the  upper  Magdalena  from  Girardot 
to  Honda  do  not  always  make  schedule  time,  so  I  hear.  Every  one 
advised  me  to  go  by  way  of  Girardot,  saying  that  the  direct  road 
was  simply  impassable  in  places.  Its  terrors  are  very  real  to  those 
who  are  unaccustomed  to  rough  mountain  trails,  but  I  hope  its 
difficulties  will  not  prove  any  more  insurmountable  than  those  of 
the  Paramo  of  Pisva.  At  all  events  I  have  chosen  to  go  by  the  older 
road,  as  every  one  agrees  it  is  the  more  picturesque  and  the  one  used 
by  Bolivar,  at  least  that  part  of  it  which  begins  at  Facatativa,  the 
terminus  of  the  little  railway. 

The  climate  of  Bogota  has  not  appealed  to  me.  The  sun  has 
shone  but  little  during  the  eighteen  days  that  I  have  been  here  and 


BOGOTA  TO  CARTAGENA 


251 


I  cannot  say  I  grew  fond  of  the  damp,  chilly  gloom  of  this  famous 
old  city.  To  tell  the  truth  I  was  very  glad  when  the  train  got  under 
way  at  eight  o’clock  this  morning.  The  road  passes  over  a  flat  and 
uninteresting  country,  making  frequent  stops.  The  towns  along  the 
road  are  not  large  or  attractive. 

At  nearly  every  station  horses  saddled  and  bridled  were  led  out 
of  the  baggage  car  as  on  the  Northern  Railroad,  while  their  masters 
alighted  from  the  coaches,  mounted  and  rode  off.  The  costumes  of 


En  Route  to  Facatativa. 


the  riders  always  interested  me.  No  matter  what  European  finery 
a  man  may  wear  in  Bogota,  he  puts  on  the  national  costume  before 
he  mounts  his  horse  in  the  country.  The  Panama  hat,  woollen 
poncho,  and  great  flapping  overalls  give  him  a  most  picturesque 
appearance  and  good  protection  against  sun  and  wind,  rain  and  mud. 

It  is  a  two-hour  run  to  Facatativa,  the  end  of  the  line.  A  crowd 
of  peons  offering  mules  and  transportation  to  Honda  on  the  Magda¬ 
lena  besieged  the  alighting  passengers.  A  friend  in  Bogota  had 
kindly  telegraphed  ahead  so  that  I  was  met  by  a  reliable  man  who 
provided  excellent  animals  and  a  good  arriero. 


252 


COLOMBIA 


Soon  after  breakfasting  we  started  off  on  our  journey  over  the 
mountains  and  valleys  that  lie  between  the  plateau  of  Bogota  and 
the  great  river.  The  road  is  less  than  eighty  miles  long,  but  the 
grades  are  so  bad  that  the  mail  takes  four  days  from  Bogota  to 
Honda.  Travellers  usually  allow  three  days  and  calculate  to  spend 
seven  hours  in  the  saddle  each  day.  The  road  goes  northwest  from 
Facatativa  for  a  short  distance  along  the  plateau,  climbs  over  the 
hills  and  then  suddenly  descends  with  many  sharp  turns.  Its  char¬ 
acter  varies  according  to  the  location.  On  the  plateau  the  road  is 
wide  and  passable  for  carts,  but  when  it  descends  into  the  valleys  it 
is  very  rocky  and  much  too  steep  and  narrow  for  wheeled  vehicles. 
In  places  the  view  is  magnificent.  On  one’s  right  after  leaving  the 
plateau  is  a  “table  mountain”  which  serves  as  an  excellent  land¬ 
mark  for  a  distance  of  thirty  miles.  As  the  road  descends,  the  foliage 
becomes  more  and  more  tropical  until  one  reaches  coffee  planta¬ 
tions  and  finally  fields  of  sugar-cane. 

My  new  arriero  is  the  fastest  walker  I  have  seen  in  Colombia 
and  keeps  the  two  pack  mules  jogging  along  ahead  of  him  at  a  good 
pace.  In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  we  passed  the  mail  which 
left  Bogota  yesterday.  The  mail  arrieros  do  not  waste  much  time, 
however,  and  before  long  they  passed  us,  everybody  on  the  run. 
They  soon  met  a  long  pack  train  bringing  goods  up  to  the  capital. 
The  road  was  narrow  at  that  point  and  one  of  the  mail-carrying 
mules  got  pushed  off  the  road  by  a  cargo  mule  loaded  with  huge 
crates  and  rolled  down  hill  twenty  or  thirty  feet  before  the  trees  and 
vines  stopped  him.  He  rolled  over  and  over  on  the  letter  bags,  but 
the  arrieros  did  not  seem  to  regard  it  as  an  unusual  occurrence.  It 
is  easy  to  see  why  dresses  coming  from  Paris  by  mail  get  well  crushed 
before  they  reach  Bogota. 

The  size  of  some  of  the  cases  of  merchandise  is  extraordinary. 
No  mule  is  supposed  to  carry  more  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds, 
so  that  a  single  case  ought  not  to  weigh  over  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  pounds.  Yet  it  seemed  as  though  some  of  the  loads  must  weigh 
more.  It  is  difficult  to  realize  that  all  the  pianos,  heavy  machinery, 
parts  of  locomotives,  in  fact  everything  in  Bogota  that  is  imported, 
has  had  to  be  carried  over  these  mountain  trails  on  the  backs  of 
men  and  mules. 


BOGOTA  TO  CARTAGENA 


253 


After  a  long  winding  descent  into  a  beautiful  deep  valley  we 
reached  the  little  town  of  Villeta  about  six  o’clock,  after  eight  hours 
of  very  rapid  travelling.  We  descended  six  thousand  feet  since 
morning. 

This  is  the  first  day  that  I  have  ridden  a  horse  in  Colombia  and 
the  sensation  was  not  pleasant  compared  with  a  mule.  A  horse 
is  not  at  all  suited  to  these  rocky  mountain  trails.  More  highly 
strung,  less  willing  to  jog  along  at  a  steady  pace  hour  after  hour, 


Importing  Goods  for  Bogota. 

more  ready  to  stop  and  walk  and  then  dash  on  nervously,  horses 
are  to  be  avoided  on  these  trails.  Furthermore,  they  are  not  nearly 
so  sure-footed.  Some  one  has  called  the  mountain  mules  the  “camels 
of  the  Andes.”  It  would  be  a  sad  day  for  a  camel  that  tried  to 
follow  in  their  footsteps. 

May  15 th.  My  arriero  distinguished  himself  this  morning  by  the 
speed  with  which  he  got  his  animals  loaded.  We  left  Villeta  shortly 
before  seven  and  made  good  time  in  the  cool  of  the  morning.  The 
road  leading  out  of  the  valley  was  frightfully  steep,  in  places  literally 
a  rocky  stairway.  It  is  astonishing  to  think  how  many  thousands 


254 


COLOMBIA 


of  tons  of  merchandise  have  been  brought  to  Bogota  over  such  a 
road.  After  a  long  climb  we  crossed  a  high  ridge  and  stopped  for 
luncheon  at  an  excellent  little  inn  called  Berjel.  In  the  valley  below 
lay  the  town  of  Guaduas.  Beyond  it  rose  another  forest-clad  ridge 
which  has  still  to  be  crossed  before  one  actually  reaches  the  valley 
of  the  Magdalena. 

My  companions  at  lunch  were  an  active  cat  that  had  an  eye  for 
every  crumb  that  fell  from  the  table,  a  melancholy  pointer  who  dared 
not  call  his  life  his  own,  a  downy  little  chick  contentedly  peeping 
and  picking  up  crumbs,  and  a  one-eyed  hen  who  watched  the  pro- 


VlEW  FROM  THE  ROAD  TO  VlLLETA. 


ceedings  until  the  cat  and  the  chick  both  attempted  to  pick  up  the 
same  crumb,  when  she  flew  into  a  rage  and  drove  not  only  the  cat 
but  also  the  poor  old  pointer  out  of  the  room  so  that  her  lone  chick 
was  left  in  full  possession  of  the  crumbs. 

On  the  road  to  Guaduas  we  passed  a  brown  snake  eighteen  inches 
long  that  had  recently  been  killed.  This  is  the  first  dead  snake  I 
have  seen  in  Colombia. 

A  religious  fiesta  was  in  progress  as  we  passed  through  Guaduas. 
Rockets  were  bursting  in  mid-air  and  a  picturesque  religious  pro¬ 
cession  wound  its  way  from  the  church  around  the  plaza.  Travellers 
spend  the  second  night  here  if  they  get  a  late  start  from  Villeta,  but 


BOGOTA  TO  CARTAGENA 


255 


the  roads  were  in  good  condition,  although  I  had  been  told  that  they 
were  “simply  impassable,”  and  we  pushed  on  across  the  last  ridge. 

The  view  of  the  Magdalena  valley  from  the  pass  beggars  descrip¬ 
tion.  The  range  is  very  steep  on  its  west  side  and  rises  abruptly 
two  thousand  feet  above  the  floor  of  the  valley.  As  it  was  a  very 
clear  day  we  could  see  for  fifty  or  sixty  miles  up  and  down  the  wide 
valley  and  follow  the  course  of  the  Magdalena  in  many  of  its  wind¬ 
ings.  Soon  after  leaving  the  summit  my  mule  narrowly  escaped 
stepping  on  a  small  corral  snake,  eight  inches  long,  that  was  sunning 
itself  in  the  roadway.  It  was  a  wonderfully  attractive  little  reptile 
with  alternating  red,  black,  and  white  bands.  It  seems  incredible 
that  this  is  only  the  second  live  snake  I  have  seen  in  four  months 
and  a  half.  Judging  by  my  own  experiences  New  England  appears 
to  have  far  more  than  Venezuela  and  Colombia!  About  five  o’clock 
we  reached  the  Hotel  El  Gabineto,  a  comfortable  caravanserai,  one 
day’s  journey  from  Honda. 

May  16th.  The  road  this  morning  was  very  bad,  as  we  had 
had  heavy  rains  during  the  night.  The  holes  between  the  boulders 
were  filled  with  water  and  dangerous  bogs  were  covered  with  inno¬ 
cent  little  ponds  so  that  the  mules  picked  their  way  along  with  great 
care.  It  was  anything  but  easy  travelling,  still  the  road  was  so 
much  wider  and  less  dangerous  than  the  path  over  the  Paramo  of 
Pisva  that  it  is  difficult  to  realize  how  bad  it  must  seem  to  one  who 
has  never  seen  a  mountain  trail  in  the  equatorial  rain  belt.  We 
passed  several  companies  of  soldiers  at  work  on  the  road.  This 
idea  of  President  Reyes  of  keeping  the  soldiers  busy,  and  improving 
the  roads  at  the  same  time,  is  an  excellent  one.  It  must  tend  to 
discourage  revolutionary  plotting. 

After  a  long  tortuous  descent  we  reached  the  floor  of  the  valley. 
The  road  passes  through  a  tropical  forest,  but  is  so  much  used  that 
it  retains  a  fairly  good  width  and  the  jungle  is  not  allowed  to  over¬ 
grow  the  trail.  Ever  since  leaving  Facatativa  we  have  met  and  passed 
scores  of  pack  mules,  there  being  sometimes  sixty  or  seventy  mules 
in  one  train.  It  is  surprising  what  very  large  loads  some  of  the  mules 
are  able  to  carry.  Yet  they  do  get  very  tired  and  when  allowed  to 
rest  lie  down  in  the  road  flat  on  their  sides  as  though  ready  to  die. 

At  half-past  nine  we  reached  the  Rio  Seco,  a  small  stream  that 


256 


COLOMBIA 


had  been  so  swollen  by  last  night’s  rains  as  to  be  dangerous.  Here 
we  found  the  mail,  which  passed  us  again  last  evening,  and  a  score 
of  travellers  waiting  for  the  river  to  subside  and  the  ford  to  become 
passable.  It  is  extraordinary  that  there  is  no  bridge  here  nor  any 


The  Business  Centre  of  Honda 


canoes.  It  does  not  take  a  very  heavy  shower  to  interrupt  entirely 
the  traffic  on  the  busiest  road  in  Colombia.  About  one  o’clock  the 
river  was  pronounced  fordable.  That  is  to  say,  the  pack  mules  could 
safely  wade  across  without  wetting  more  than  a  third  of  their  loads. 
It  is  just  as  important  to  have  the  under  side  of  a  bundle  made  water¬ 
proof  as  the  upper  side. 

Two  hours  after  fording  the  Rio  Seco  we  reached  the  banks  of 
the  Magdalena  and  saw  the  southern  end  of  Honda  and  the  docks 
for  the  Girardot  and  Upper  River  steamers.  The  road  runs  parallel 
to  the  river  for  a  short  distance  until  it  reaches  a  steel  bridge  which 
has  recently  been  built,  greatly  facilitating  the  traffic.  Directly 
opposite  the  town  are  the  dangerous  rapids  which  interrupt  river 
transportation.  It  is  possible  for  boats  on  the  lower  river  to  come 
within  three  quarters  of  a  mile  of  deep  water  on  the  upper  river  in 


BOGOTA  TO  CARTAGENA 


257 


the  rainy  season  when  there  is  plenty  of  water,  but  the  task  is  not 
an  easy  one.  Most  of  the  boats  come  no  farther  than  La  Dorada, 
five  miles  down  the  river  at  the  end  of  the  rapids. 

Honda  has  a  very  busy  air.  The  streets  are  filled  with  pack 
trains  loading  for  Bogota.  There  are  many  warehouses  here  and 
several  large  commercial  establishments  that  give  the  town  an  ap¬ 
pearance  of  prosperity.  As  in  Bogota  the  largest  firms  are  German 
and  Colombian.  The  hotel  accommodations  are  good,  but  the  heat 
is  considerable. 

May  18 th.  I  left  Honda  by  the  mail  train  soon  after  breakfast 
this  morning.  The  run  to  La  Dorada,  the  usual  stopping-place  for 
the  Lower  River  steamers,  is  not  long  and  the  train  passes  through 
a  dense  tropical  jungle.  At  one  place  we  saw  through  the  trees  a 
freight  steamer  painfully  making  her  way  up  the  rapids  to  Honda. 


A  Glimpse  of  the  River  below  Honda. 

In  this  way  railroad  freight  charges  are  saved,  but  the  process  is 
tedious  and  rather  dangerous,  so  that  the  regular  passenger  boats 
do  not  attempt  it. 

La  Dorada  is  a  dirty  little  village,  but  has  good  wharves.  At 
one  of  these  lay  the  mail  steamer,  the  Lopez  Penha,  one  of  the  largest 


258 


COLOMBIA 


and  finest  boats  on  the  river.  There  arc  thirty  or  forty  boats  used 
in  the  passenger  and  freight  traffic  on  the  lower  Magdalena.  They 
are  all  “stern  wheelers”  of  nearly  the  same  type  as  those  used  on 
the  Ohio  and  the  upper  Mississippi.  The  larger  ones  are  of  three 
hundred  and  fifty  tons  register.  As  there  are  many  dangerous 
shoals  in  the  river,  the  boats  draw  but  little  water.  All  the  machinery, 
fuel,  and  freight  have  to  be  on  the  lower  deck.  The  upper  deck  is 
reserved  for  passengers.  In  a  long  hall  down  the  centre  are  the 
dining  tables,  while  the  staterooms,  practically  bare  of  furniture, 
are  on  either  side.  The  least  said  about  the  food  and  the  service 
the  better.  It  is  passable  but  not  attractive,  and  unless  one  carries 


The  Lopez  Pen  ha. 

ones  own  provisions  the  pleasure  of  the  table  will  not  be  among 
the  agreeable  memories  of  the  journey.  At  the  first  meal  certain 
formalities  are  observed.  It  is  the  custom  for  all  to  wait  for  the 
capitan  to  invite  them  to  the  table.  He  then  politely  requests  his 
“guests”  to  be  seated  and  gives  orders  for  the  meal  to  be  served. 
My  fellow  passengers  are  all  Colombians  with  one  exception,  a 


BOGOTA  TO  CARTAGENA 


259 


Syrian  railroad  contractor.  He  speaks  no  English,  but  carries  an 
American  passport  and  is  pleased  to  consider  himself  an  American 
citizen. 

At  first  we  had  a  view  of  the  mountains,  but  the  river  gradually 


A  Wood  Station  near  La  Dorada. 


left  them  and  the  great  valley  became  too  wide  and  flat  to  furnish 
much  scenery.  The  river  scenery  is  somewhat  monotonous,  although 
now  and  then  huge  trees  rise  above  the  everlasting  jungle  and  com¬ 
mand  one’s  admiration.  Occasionally  a  little  village  of  thatched 
huts  breaks  the  monotony.  Most  of  the  villages  are  very  much 
alike. 

There  is  no  coal  to  be  had  and  the  steamers  all  burn  wood.  This 
necessitates  frequent  stops  at  wood-yards  along  the  bank.  The 
native  wood-cutters  who  own  these  yards  pile  their  product  in  sec¬ 
tions  of  standard  size  close  to  a  landing-place,  so  that  it  does  not 
take  long  for  the  captain  to  buy  his  fuel  and  have  his  sailors  bring 
it  aboard,  stacking  it  up  on  the  lower  deck  near  the  boilers. 

We  left  La  Dorada  at  eleven  o’clock  and  reached  Puerto  Berrio, 
where  we  tied  up  for  the  night,  about  five.  This  is  an  uninteresting 
village,  but  is  the  terminus  of  a  little  railroad  that  will  some  day 
reach  Medellin,  one  of  the  most  important  cities  in  Colombia.  The 


26o 


COLOMBIA 


railroad  shops  are  in  a  sad  state  of  repair  and  look  as  though  they 
would  be  of  little  use  by  the  time  the  road  is  completed.  At  present 
I  am  told  the  train  goes  as  far  as  Providencia,  about  half-way  to 
Medellin.  It  brings  down  quantities  of  coffee  and  hides,  the  two 
chief  articles  of  export. 

May  i&th.  We  spent  all  day  at  Puerto  Berrio  loading  cargo, 
chiefly  coffee.  There  is  another  steamer  here  loading  hides  in  two 
large  barges  which  she  tows  one  on  each  side  like  wings.  There  are 
a  few  shops  here,  well  stocked  with  both  domestic  and  imported 
goods.  The  only  unusual  things  are  little  horn  drinking  cups,  three 
inches  in  diameter  and  an  inch  and  a  quarter  deep.  They  are  made 
near  Medellin  and  are  very  attractive  both  in  shape  and  colour. 

May  19 th.  We  left  Puerto  Berrio  early  this  morning.  There  is 
a  kind  of  shower  bath  at  one  end  of  the  upper  deck.  I  enjoyed  its 


A  Magdalena  River  Steamer. 


refreshing  qualities  this  morning  just  before  we  passed  the  carcase 
of  a  donkey  on  which  three  buzzards  were  riding.  The  drinking 
water  as  well  as  that  of  the  bath  is  unfiltered  river  water.  There 
were  heavy  rains  in  the  night.  Owing  to  these  rains  the  river  is  rising 
rapidly  and  some  of  the  villages  are  partly  under  water,  while  others, 


BOGOTA  TO  CARTAGENA 


261 

more  fortunate,  are  built  on  a  slight  rise  of  ground.  Wherever  we  stop 
the  crew  carry  on  a  lively  trade  in  cigars  which  are  made  somewhere 
up  the  river  above  Honda  and  which  the  sailors  sell  to  the  people 
along  the  route  for  eighty  cents  a  hundred.  We  stopped  several 
times  for  wood.  At  Chusa  the  flood  made  it  rather  difficult  for  the 
sailors  to  bring  the  wood  on  board.  With  the  aid  of  a  rope  they 


Loading  Fuel  at  Chusa. 


manage  to  carry  a  good-sized  load  of  large  billets  piled  up  on  their 
shoulder  and  over  their  head.  They  complained  this  noon  that  the 
wood-piles  were  infested  with  snakes,  scorpions,  centipedes,  and 
tarantulas  that  had  taken  refuge  there  as  the  river  rose.  But  they 
were  very  watchful  and  no  one  was  bitten  seriously. 

At  three  o’clock  we  reached  Puerto  Wilches,  where  engineers 
have  again  commenced  the  construction  of  a  railroad  to  Bucara- 
manga,  an  important  interior  city.  Albert  Millican,  the  orchid 
hunter,  who  came  here  about  i8qo,  says  in  his  “Travels  and  Ad¬ 
ventures”  that  he  found  here  “in  this  forest-wilderness  several 
railway  waggons  and  about  a  thousand  steel  rails,  all  in  a  pitiful 
state  of  wreck  and  dilapidation.”  The  original  railway  project 


262 


COLOMBIA 


started  by  Gen.  Solan  Wilches  was  abandoned  years  ago,  but  is  now 
being  rejuvenated  under  a  new  concession. 

May  20 tli.  We  did  not  find  it  necessary  to  tie  up  to  the  bank 
last  night,  as  there  is  so  much  water  in  the  river  that  navigation  is 
fairly  easy.  This  morning  at  half-past  seven  we  reached  La  Gloria, 
a  typical  river  village.  The  river  is  rising  but  we  got  ahead  of  the 
flood  during  the  night  and  it  has  not  reached  La  Gloria  yet.  Adobe 
huts  with  thatched  roofs,  cocoanut  trees  and  a  few  canoes  are  the 
chief  characteristics  of  this  and  every  other  village  in  this  part  of 
the  river.  Occasionally  we  saw  rafts,  partly  thatched  over,  on  which 
a  family  were  making  a  cheap  excursion  down  stream. 

The  river  is  continually  growing  wider  and  more  sluggish.  At 
times  it  looks  like  a  large  lake.  Its  banks  are  everywhere  heavily 


La  Gloria,  on  the  Magdalena. 


wooded  and  the  country  is  very  flat.  Once  in  a  while  one  sees  a  low 
hill. 

At  noon  we  reached  Banco,  a  busy  little  town,  with  an  attractive 
church  perched  on  a  bluff  thirty  feet  high.  A  crowd  came  down 
to  the  landing  bringing  pottery,  large  jars  and  small  pots,  jaguar 
and  snake  skins  and  sleeping  mats.  Hammocks  are  not  common 
here.  A  piece  of  native  grass-matting  serves  the  poorer  classes  for 


BOGOTA  TO  CARTAGENA  263 

a  bed.  Dark  faces  grow  more  common  as  one  descends  the  river 
and  evidences  of  negro  blood  increase. 

The  country  is  so  flat  here  that  the  river  becomes  a  network  of 
branches  and  canals.  On  one  of  these  is  the  ancient  city  of  Mompox. 
As  the  captain  was  in  a  hurry  we  took  a  short  cut  through  one  of  the 
narrower  channels  and  did  not  see  the  old  city. 


Banco,  Looking  Northward. 


About  four  o’clock  we  reached  the  confluence  of  the  Cauca  with 
the  Magdalena.  For  miles  the  air  was  filled  with  an  immense  swarm 
of  locusts.  Millions  upon  millions  of  these  large  brown  grasshoppers 
were  flying  up-stream  at  a  rapid  pace.  Their  number  was  without 
end.  The  captain  says  they  have  been  in  the  vicinity  for  four  months, 
although  they  have  not  been  seen  before  for  many  years.  We  saw 
the  remains  of  several  plantations  which  the  locusts  had  stripped. 
Evidently  the  country  has  much  to  suffer  from  them  yet. 

We  tied  up  to  the  bank  for  half  an  hour  this  afternoon,  while 
the  sailors  tried  to  help  a  ranchman  catch  a  steer  that  the  captain 
wanted  to  buy  for  meat.  The  butcher  shop  is  on  the  lower  deck 
and  needs  replenishing,  but  the  steer  was  too  wary  and  did  not  come 
aboard. 


264 


COLOMBIA 


May  21  st.  We  steamed  ahead  all  through  the  night  and  made 
good  time,  reaching  Calamar  soon  after  six  this  morning.  Several 
passengers  left  us  here  to  take  the  train  that  runs  to  Cartagena. 
Calamar  is  the  cleanest  looking  town  on  the  river  and  shows  the 
effects  of  an  increased  prosperity  brought  about  by  the  new  railroad. 
The  promoters  of  this  railroad  hope  to  deflect  a  large  proportion 
of  the  freight  that  is  now  landed  at  Puerto  Colombia  and  brought 
by  rail  to  the  Magdalena  at  Barranquilla.  Ocean  steamers  can 
land  their  freight  at  Cartagena  directly  on  board  the  company’s 
cars,  but  the  haul  from  Cartagena  to  Calamar  is  much  longer  than 
from  Puerto  Colombia  to  Barranquilla.  If  the  silt  from  the  Magda¬ 
lena  should  ever  succeed  in  spoiling  the  harbour  of  Puerto  Colombia 
as  it  did  that  of  Savanilla,  this  Cartagena-Calamar  railroad  would 
have  a  tremendous  increase  in  business. 


Barranquilla  Harbour. 


At  half-past  ten  we  reached  Remolino,  an  ancient  town  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  river,  half-way  from  Calamar  to  Barranquilla. 
The  current  in  the  river  is  hardly  perceptible  and  one  sees  many 
floating  water  plants  that  give  the  river  the  appearance  of  being  a 
stagnant  lake.  I  have  read  much  of  the  number  of  alligators  in  the 
Magdalena,  but  have  not  seen  one.  The  captain  says  it  is  on  ac¬ 
count  of  the  floods,  and  yet  I  should  have  supposed  that  we  would 
have  seen  them  swimming  in  the  river. 


BOGOTA  TO  CARTAGENA 


265 


We  reached  Barranquilla  at  half-past  two,  having  made  excellent 
time  from  Honda,  which  we  left  four  days  ago.  The  harbour  is  a 
canal  which  runs  parallel  to  the  river.  The  wind  was  blowing  quite 
hard  and  we  had  considerable  difficulty  in  avoiding  the  many  steamers 
that  lined  its  banks.  There  are  several  “hotels”  here,  but  it  is 
advisable  to  make  a  definite  bargain  in  regard  to  the  price  of  room 


A  Street  in  Cartagena. 


and  board.  English-speaking  travellers  are  very  likely  to  be  over¬ 
charged. 

Barranquilla  has  the  appearance  of  being  a  busy,  prosperous 
city,  but  the  streets  are  sandy  and  the  heat  is  excessive.  I  am  not  sorry 
to  learn  that  a  mail  steamer  leaves  tomorrow.  There  are  several 
large  German  and  English  firms  and  the  warehouses  appear  to  be 
well  stocked. 

In  the  Custom  House  I  found  a  case  of  photographic  supplies 
that  had  been  addressed  to  me  at  Bogota.  It  was  plainly  marked 
“care  of  the  American  Legation,  Bogota,”  but  has  been  lying  here 
for  four  months!  The  agent  of  the  R.  M.  S.  P.  Co.,  by  which  the 
goods  were  shipped  from  New  York,  was  unwilling  to  aid  me  in 
any  way,  and,  unlike  most  of  their  agents,  was  exceedingly  rude. 


266 


COLOMBIA 


Incivility  is  so  rare  in  these  countries  that  its  occasional  occurrence 
is  all  the  more  marked.  Thanks  to  the  kind  intervention  of  Mr. 
P.  P.  Demers,  the  American  Consul,  I  was  able  to  rescue  my  plates 
without  too  much  difficulty.  In  answer  to  my  inquiries  I  was  told 
that  all  goods  destined  for  the  interior  must  be  sent  in  care  of  some 
one  at  the  port  of  entry,  to  whom  should  be  mailed  the  invoices  with 
directions  to  go  to  the  Custom  House  and  look  out  for  the  parcels 
when  they  arrive.  Otherwise  they  will  stay  in  the  Custom  House 
until  claimed  by  the  owner.  No  notifications  of  arrival  are  ever 


The  Walls  of  Cartagena. 


sent  out.  It  seems  extraordinary  that  no  provision  is  made  to  ac¬ 
quaint  consignees  of  the  arrival  of  their  goods,  but  such  is  the  case. 

May  22 d.  A  swarm  of  locusts  descended  on  Barranquilla  this 
morning.  While  not  as  numerous  as  the  countless  millions  I  saw 
up  the  river  they  seemed  to  portend  disaster  and  to  be  the  forerunners 
of  the  great  host.  This  is  their  first  appearance  here. 

I  left  Barranquilla  at  noon  by  train.  A  ten-mile  ride  on  the  little 
railroad  brought  me  to  Puerto  Colombia,  where  an  English  company 
has  built  a  fine  pier  a  mile  and  a  quarter  long,  at  the  end  of  which 
ocean  steamers  are  able  to  dock. 


BOGOTA  TO  CARTAGENA 


267 


The  first  thing  that  struck  my  attention  as  I  went  aboard  the 
“Prinz  Joachin”  of  the  Atlas  Line  was  the  extraordinary  cleanli¬ 
ness  of  everything.  It  seemed  as  though  I  had  never  seen  such 
spotlessness. 

May  2 3d.  We  reached  Cartagena  this  morning  and  there  I 
had  my  last  glimpse  of  Colombia.  The  fine  old  historic  city  has 
few  marks  of  modern  life.  It  is  far  more  interesting  than  Barran- 
quilla.  The  latter  is  much  more  modern  and  businesslike.  Here 
everything  has  the  flavour  of  antiquity.  The  great  walls  built  at  tre¬ 
mendous  expense  by  order  of  Philip  II  in  the  sixteenth  century  are 
still  intact.  Their  strength  and  width  are  marvellous.  The  streets 
are  narrow  and  picturesque.  The  houses  look  as  though  most  of 
them  went  back  to  the  time  of  “Westward  Ho.”  Altogether  it  is 
a  fitting  link  between  Old  Spain  and  her  quondam  colonies. 

Postscript 

June  5 th.  This  morning  we  passed  through  quarantine  and 
entered  New  York  Harbour.  As  we  went  slowly  up  the  bay  we  met 
six  American  battle-ships,  steaming  out  in  all  the  glory  of  their  fresh 
paint  and  shining  metal.  They  appeared  to  typify  the  country  to 
which  we  had  come.  Powerful,  aggressive,  with  machinery  well  oiled 
and  bunkers  full  of  coal,  everything  about  them  was  spick  and  span 
and  ship-shape,  sacrificing  little  to  beauty  or  courtesy,  businesslike  in 
every  particular;  the  veritable  embodiment  of  the  North  American 
spirit. 

It  is  hard  for  the  North  American  to  understand  the  Venezuelan 
or  Colombian,  to  realize  the  difficulties  under  which  he  labours,  to 
estimate  justly  the  enervating  effect  upon  successive  generations  of 
damp  tropical  heat.  Nevertheless  a  six  months’  acquaintance  with 
the  actual  conditions  of  life  in  northern  South  America  has  given 
me,  as  it  must  any  one  who  travels  in  those  regions,  a  keener  sense 
of  the  ability  and  courage  displayed  by  Bolivar,  Santander,  and  the 
heroes  of  the  Wars  of  Emancipation,  and  a  better  appreciation  of  the 
achievements  of  their  successors. 


APPENDIX  A 


Historical  Sketch 

The  War  of  Independence  in  Venezuela  and  Colombia  began  in 
1810.  At  first  the  patriot  cause  was  successful  and  the  Spanish 
officials  were  driven  out  of  the  larger  part  of  Venezuela  and  Colombia. 
By  the  aid  of  the  Llaneros  or  cowboys  of  the  plains,  who  were 
staunchly  loyal,  the  Spanish  generals  gradually  recovered  the  lost 
territory  until  there  was  little  left  for  the  patriots.  A  mistaken 
policy,  however,  turned  the  Llaneros  against  the  crown.  In  1815 
a  number  of  almost  inaccessible  regions  on  the  Llanos  were  the 
only  places  where  the  Independent  cause  still  prevailed.  By  1818 
the  patriots  under  Bolivar  had  recovered  the  larger  part  of  the  Ori¬ 
noco  valley,  but  the  Spaniards  still  held  the  principal  cities,  the 
highlands  and  the  higher  plains  of  Venezuela  and  Colombia. 

A  number  of  companies  raised  in  Great  Britain,  consisting  largely 
of  veterans  of  the  Napoleonic  wars,  had  by  this  time  arrived.  They 
composed  what  is  generally  spoken  of  as  the  British  Legion.  They 
joined  the  army  of  Bolivar,  which  hardly  deserved  the  name,  and 
which  was  making  such  shift  as  it  could  in  the  vicinity  of  Achaguas 
and  Mantecal  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Llanos. 

In  the  winter  of  1818-19  General  Santander,  the  ablest  of  the 
Colombian  patriots,  undertook  a  perilous  journey  across  the  plains 
from  Casanare  to  the  Orinoco  to  beseech  the  Venezuelan  Congress, 
then  sitting  at  Angostura,  to  send  an  army  to  the  aid  of  the  Colom¬ 
bian  patriots.  Santander’s  plan  was  briefly  this:  The  Spanish 
army  was  divided  into  three  grand  divisions.  The  first  division  held 
the  seacoast  of  Venezuela  and  the  principal  cities,  including  Caracas 
and  Valencia.  The  second  division  held  the  Venezuelan  Andes, 
with  headquarters  at  Merida.  The  third  division  held  the  plateau 
of  Colombia  and  guarded  Bogota,  the  capital  of  the  Vice-Royalty. 
The  Spaniards  had  been  unable  to  hold  the  Llanos  of  Casanare, 

269 


270 


APPENDIX  A 


that  lie  immediately  east  of  the  Andes  near  Tunja  and  Sogamoso, 
and  there  Santander  had  a  force  of  upwards  of  a  thousand  men. 
A  number  of  passes  lead  from  this  plain  to  the  plateau  and  it  would 
be  easy,  said  Santander,  to  throw  an  army  unexpectedly  on  to  the 
plateau  of  Sogamoso  through  one  of  the  unfrequented  passes.  The 
people  of  the  country  would  be  friendly  to  the  Liberating  Army  and 
it  would  not  be  a  difficult  matter  to  drive  the  Spaniards  entirely 
from  the  plateau  of  Colombia  and  out  of  the  Magdalena  valley. 
The  greatest  difficulty  in  the  way  of  the  scheme  was  to  get  an  army 
across  the  inundated  plains  in  the  wet  season  and  across  the  Andes 
in  the  time  of  snows.  This  very  fact  would  make  the  Spaniards 
less  suspicious  of  an  attack  and  would  favour  the  success  of  the  enter¬ 
prise,  if  the  soldiers  could  stand  its  hardships.  This  plan  was 
adopted. 

Santander  returned  to  Casanare  to  organize  his  Colombians, 
and  Bolivar  undertook  the  difficult  task  of  bringing  an  army  of  two 
thousand  men  through  a  country  that  had  practically  no  provisions 
except  cattle  on  the  hoof,  no  roads,  no  bridges,  swollen  rivers  and 
swampy  plains. 

On  May  25,  1819,  Bolivar  left  the  vicinity  of  Achaguas  and 
Mantecal,  marching  along  the  right  bank  of  the  Apure  as  far  as 
Guasdualito.  Here  he  met  General  Paez,  gave  him  orders  to  skir¬ 
mish  in  the  vicinity  of  Merida  and  hold  the  attention  of  the  royalist 
General  La  Torre  who,  with  some  three  thousand  men,  commanded 
the  second  division  of  the  Spanish  army.  Paez  was  not  given  enough 
men  to  make  a  battle  advisable,  but  only  sufficient  to  prevent  La 
Torre  from  going  to  the  aid  of  General  Barreiro,  who  commanded 
the  third  division  of  the  Spanish  army,  about  thirty-eight  hundred 
men,  near  Tunja  and  Sogamoso  in  Colombia. 

From  Guasdualito  Bolivar  went  ahead  of  his  army  to  Tame,  and 
they  followed  as  best  they  could  across  the  frightful  swamps  of  the 
Llanos  of  Casanare.  They  finally  joined  forces  on  the  nth  of  June, 
1819,  with  the  army  of  General  Santander,  who  had  twelve  hundred 
men  in  the  vicinity  of  Puerto  San  Salvador.  A  council  of  war  took 
place  on  the  fourteenth  and  it  was  decided  to  approach  the  plateau 
of  Sogamoso  by  way  of  the  Paramo  of  Pisva,  which  was  excessively 
cold  and  barren  and  not  likely  to  be  well  guarded  by  the  Spaniards. 


HISTORICAL  SKETCH 


271 


On  the  22d  of  June  the  combined  armies,  now  numbering  twenty- 
two  hundred  and  seventy-five  men,  began  the  march  to  the  Paramo 
by  way  of  Pore  and  Paya.  The  difficulties  of  crossing  the  moun¬ 
tains  appealed  so  strongly  to  some  of  the  Llaneros  that  three  hun¬ 
dred  of  them  requested  permission  to  go  back  and  join  Paez.  Their 
fears  were  well  founded.  On  June  27  the  vanguard  under  Santander 


Portrait  of  Bolivar. 

In  the  possession  of  General  Ybarra  at  Caracas. 

marched  to  Paya,  where  an  outpost  reported  as  numbering  five  hun¬ 
dred  Spaniards  was  defeated.  In  crossing  the  Paramo  of  Pisva  more 
than  sixty  soldiers  died  on  account  of  cold  and  hunger.  All  the 
saddle  and  pack  animals  died  on  the  way. 

After  passing  the  Paramo  the  Liberating  Army  went  to  Socha, 
where  it  was  welcomed  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  lower  Sogamoso 
valley  and  was  able  to  procure  a  few  horses  and  sufficient  food. 

The  royalists  had  for  two  years  had  their  headquarters  in  the 


272 


APPENDIX  A 


city  of  Sogamoso  under  the  command  of  General  Barreiro.  When 
they  heard  that  Bolivar  and  his  army  had  accomplished  the  appar¬ 
ently  impossible  task  of  crossing  the  Llanos  and  the  mountains  in 
the  winter,  they  proceeded  to  make  some  feeble  efforts  to  dispute 
their  further  advance.  Bolivar  and  his  army  soon  recovered  from 
the  effects  of  their  march  and  moved  south  from  Socha  through  Tasco 
towards  Sogamoso.  Barreiro  hearing  of  this  advance  sent  out  eight 
hundred  troops  on  the  nth  of  July  to  hold  the  heights  that  command 
a  bridge  by  which  the  road  crossed  the  river  Gameza.  Bolivar 
succeeded  in  throwing  a  few  men  across  the  bridge,  but  found 
the  Spaniards  so  firmly  entrenched  on  the  rocky  heights  above  that 
he  gave  up  the  attempt  on  Sogamoso.  Taking  a  road  to  the  west¬ 
ward  he  passed  through  the  towns  of  Corrales  and  Nobsa  (or  Santa 
Rosa),  and  reached  Duitama,  leaving  Sogamoso  in  possession  of 
the  Spaniards  to  the  east  of  him,  but  threatening  to  cut  them  off 
from  Tunja  and  Bogota.  On  July  18  the  Spaniards  abandoned 
Sogamoso  and  marched  up  the  valley  to  Paipa  where  they  took  a 
position  between  Bolivar  and  Tunja.  On  the  twentieth,  Bolivar  left 
Duitama  and  established  his  headquarters  at  Corral  de  Bonsa  near 
the  upper  Sogamoso  River. 

Bolivar  decided  to  out-flank  the  Spanish  army  on  the  night  of 
the  twenty-second  and  sent  a  battalion  under  Santander  along  the 
road  toward  Paipa  for  this  purpose.  Shortly  after  they  started  a 
heavy  rain  fell  and  in  the  darkness  they  lost  their  way.  The  failure 
of  this  attempt  determined  Bolivar  to  send  the  out-flanking  force 
by  way  of  Pantano  de  Vargas. 

Between  the  Liberating  Army  and  the  swamp  of  Vargas  was 
the  upper  Sogamoso  River,  sometimes  called  Rio  Grande  or  the 
Chicamocha.  It  was  swollen  by  recent  rains,  but  rafts  and  barges 
were  hastily  constructed,  and  at  four  o’clock  on  Sunday  morning, 
July  25,  1819,  the  army  began  to  cross  and  took  the  road  to  Vargas. 
Barreiro,  seeing  this  movement  of  the  patriots,  probably  supposed 
that  Bolivar  was  attempting  to  go  to  Tunja  by  an  unfrequented 
road  via  Toca.  Accordingly  he  sent  his  entire  force,  thirty-eight 
hundred  strong,  into  the  hills  and  the  valley  south  of  the  swamp  of 
Vargas.  The  cavalry  were  placed  on  the  plain,  and  the  infantry 
on  the  heights  that  command  the  road  which  is  forced  to  pass  very 


HISTORICAL  SKETCH 


273 


close  to  the  foot  of  the  hills  by  the  extensive  swamp  called  the  Pan- 
tano  de  Vargas. 

Bolivar’s  cavalry  was  composed  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  Llaneros, 
most  of  them  without  saddles.  When  they  lost  their  horses  in  the 
Paramo  of  Pisva  they  naturally  left  the  saddles  behind.  A  few  had 
saddles  without  stirrups;  some  had  no  bridles  but  simply  halters. 
The  royalist  cavalry  numbered  six  hundred  and  was  well  equipped 
with  all  the  necessary  accoutrements.  They  were  armed  with  pistols, 
carbines,  and  sabres,  while  the  Llaneros  had  only  lances. 

Bolivar  ordered  the  attack  to  be  made  both  along  the  highway 
which  was  between  the  mountains  and  the  marsh  and  also  on  the 
hills.  When  the  first  companies  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  they  were 
repulsed  with  great  loss.  The  attack  along  the  road  was  also  driven 
back.  Other  attacks  were  made  and  repulsed  until  Santander, 
reinforced  by  the  British  Legion,  again  fought  his  way  to  the  top  of 
the  hills  and  with  a  bayonet  charge  attempted  to  dislodge  the  Span¬ 
iards.  The  latter,  however,  were  reinforced  at  this  moment  by  the 
arrival  of  five  hundred  reserves,  and  for  a  third  time  the  patriots 
were  driven  down  hill.  Bolivar  was  unable  to  gain  a  foot.  Barreiro 
then  ordered  a  general  charge  of  his  cavalry.  The  story  goes  that 
fifteen  Llaneros  who  had  been  waiting  near  Bolivar  for  orders 
attacked  at  a  gallop  the  front  of  the  Spanish  cavalry  who,  marching 
six  abreast,  occupied  the  whole  road.  The  little  band  fell  upon  the 
royalist  columns  with  such  force  and  bravery  that  they  threw  the 
first  few  ranks  into  confusion,  while  the  others,  coming  on  from 
behind,  increased  the  disorder.  The  horsemen,  hemmed  in  by  adobe 
walls,  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  extricating  themselves  from  the 
disordered  mass  into  which  they  had  been  thrown  by  the  fierce  attack 
of  the  handful  of  patriots.  Bolivar,  seeing  that  the  critical  moment 
had  arrived,  ordered  another  general  attack  on  the  Spanish  lines, 
with  the  result  that  the  royalists  fell  back  in  disorder.  As  the  Span¬ 
iards  began  to  lose  ground  a  heavy  rain  came  up  and  prevented  either 
side  from  seeing  the  manoeuvres  of  the  other.  Darkness  fell  and 
covered  the  Spanish  retreat  so  that  there  were  no  prisoners  taken. 
Bolivar,  not  knowing  what  disposition  Barreiro  was  making  of  his 
forces,  and  being  unable  to  get  news  of  him  in  the  darkness  and  the 
rain,  spent  the  night  reorganizing  his  army  and  preparing  for  an 


274 


APPENDIX  A 


attack.  Barreiro  had  returned  to  Paipa.  The  patriots  apparently 
lost  as  heavily  as  the  royalists.  It  is  claimed  that  twelve  hundred 
were  killed  on  both  sides. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  Bolivar  returned  to  his  camp  at  Bonsa. 
His  army  now  numbered  but  eighteen  hundred  men,  two  hundred 
having  returned  to  their  homes  in  the  Llanos  of  Casanare.  Barreiro 
remained  at  Paipa  and  both  armies  were  in  practically  the  same 
position  as  before  the  encounter,  although  the  Spaniards  had  lost 
confidence  and  the  Liberating  Army  had  practically  gained  a  vic¬ 
tory.  After  a  few  skirmishes  the  Royalist  Army  abandoned  Paipa 
and  took  up  a  position  at  Motanita  on  the  main  road  to  Tunja. 
Bolivar  determined  to  reach  Tunja  first  if  possible  and  again 
marching  by  way  of  Pantano  de  Vargas  and  the  Toca  road,  he  was 
successful  in  arriving  at  Tunja  before  Barreiro. 

Barreiro  was  visited  by  a  clever  spy  sent  by  Bolivar,  who  dis¬ 
covered  that  the  Spaniards  did  not  propose  to  attack  Tunja  but  to 
go  to  Bogota  by  a  road  that  passes  west  of  Tunja,  separated  from 
that  city  by  a  range  of  hills.  In  this  way  they  hoped  to  be  able 
to  reach  Bogota  and  join  forces  with  the  troops  held  in  reserve  there 
by  the  Viceroy.  The  spy  having  misled  the  Spaniards  into  believing 
that  Bolivar  intended  to  spend  some  time  in  Tunja,  escaped  in  the 
night  and  made  his  report  to  the  patriot  general.  The  next  morn¬ 
ing,  August  7,  1819,  Bolivar  climbed  the  hills  and  was  able  with  his 
field  glass  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  enemy  to  the  westward. 

From  the  Spanish  camp  there  were  two  roads  to  Bogota,  one  by 
way  of  Chiquinquira  and  the  other  by  the  bridge  of  Boyaca.  Lack¬ 
ing  a  guide  they  took  the  more  frequented  road  by  way  of  Boyaca. 
As  soon  as  Bolivar  saw  them  pass  the  fork  in  the  road  and  realized 
that  they  would  go  by  Boyaca,  he  ordered  his  army  to  march  to  the 
bridge  as  rapidly  as  possible.  This  order  was  given  at  nine  o’clock 
in  the  morning.  Bolivar  remained  on  the  heights  until  half-past 
eleven,  when  he  could  see  the  royalist  army  no  longer,  then  mount¬ 
ing  his  horse  went  to  Tunja,  had  breakfast,  and  took  the  road  to 
Boyaca.  The  royalists  reached  the  bridge  ahead  of  Bolivar’s  army 
and,  thinking  that  they  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  patriots  whom 
they  supposed  intended  to  remain  at  Tunja,  stopped  for  breakfast. 
At  about  two  o’clock  the  Liberating  Army  arrived  in  sight  of  the 


HISTORICAL  SKETCH 


bridge,  but  thanks  to  the  woods  were  able  to  reach  the  banks  of  the 
stream  before  they  were  seen.  The  Spaniards  now  hastened  to 
cross  the  bridge  in  order  to  place  two  four-inch  guns  on  the  hillock 
at  the  right  of  the  road.  Owing  to  recent  rains  the  river  was  so 
swollen  as  to  be  impassable  except  at  the  bridge  and  at  a  little  used 
ford,  some  distance  down  stream.  Santander  made  great  efforts 
to  take  the  bridge,  but  owing  to  the  difficulty  of  manoeuvring  over 
such  rough  ground  was  unable  to  do  so.  The  patriot  cavalry  finally 
succeeded  in  finding  the  ford  half  a  mile  down  stream,  where  they  were 
able  to  cross  without  being  observed  by  the  Spaniards.  The  Llaneros, 
having  re-formed  on  the  other  side  of  the  Boyaca  River,  attacked 
the  royalist  artillery  in  the  rear  and  caused  great  confusion.  San¬ 
tander  was  now  able  to  cross  the  bridge  and  occupy  the  hills.  A 
large  number  of  Spaniards  were  surrounded  and  taken  prisoners. 
The  battle  lasted  less  than  two  hours.  By  the  time  that  Bolivar 
arrived  at  the  battle-field,  about  four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  every¬ 
thing  had  been  decided  and  he  found  Barreiro  a  prisoner  at  the 
inn  of  Boyaca.  The  battle  of  the  7th  of  August,  1819,  was  a  com¬ 
plete  victory.  The  prisoners  numbered  sixteen  hundred,  including 
General  Barreiro  and  thirty-seven  officers. 

As  soon  as  the  Viceroy  at  Bogota  heard  of  the  defeat  and 
capture  of  his  army,  he  packed  up  what  treasure  he  could  lay  his 
hands  on,  fled  to  the  Magdalena  and  made  the  best  of  his  way  to 
the  coast.  The  days  of  Spanish  power  in  Colombia  were  over. 


APPENDIX  B 


Battle  of  Carabobo 

In  the  year  following  the  battle  of  Boyaca  an  armistice  was 
signed  by  Bolivar  and  General  Morillo,  who  commanded  the  Spanish 
army  in  Venezuela.  The  armistice  was  badly  observed  by  both 
parties,  but  the  patriot  army  was  able  to  improve  the  interval  of 
repose  better  than  the  Spaniards.  The  Spanish  Revolution  of  1820 
prevented  reinforcements  from  being  sent  from  Spain,  while  the 
victories  in  Colombia  enabled  Bolivar  to  secure  many  additions  to 
his  forces.  The  armistice  was  formally  declared  to  be  at  an  end 
on  the  28th  of  April,  1821. 

Bolivar  had  some  four  thousand  men  at  Barinas.  Paez  was  in 
command  of  three  thousand  Llaneros  scattered  over  the  plains,  and 
Bermudez  with  two  thousand  men  threatened  the  Spaniards  in  Eastern 
Venezuela.  Bolivar  now  took  up  his  headquarters  at  San  Carlos 
and  Paez  assembled  his  cowboys  at  Pao.  Bermudez  made  an  attack 
on  Caracas  from  the  east  and  his  operations  occupied  the  attention 
of  a  considerable  portion  of  the  royalist  army.  The  Spanish  lines 
extended  from  Barquisimeto  through  Valencia  to  Caracas. 

Sending  some  of  his  forces  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  Spaniards 
in  the  west  as  well  as  in  the  east,  Bolivar  proceeded  to  gather  his 
forces  for  an  attack  on  the  Spanish  centre.  The  royalists  had  a 
force  of  upwards  of  five  thousand  men,  most  of  them  quartered  in 
and  about  Valencia,  while  a  small  detachment  held  the  town  of 
Tinaquillo  on  the  northern  edge  of  the  Llanos. 

About  the  middle  of  June,  1821,  Bolivar  left  his  headquarters 
at  San  Carlos  and  marching  east  joined  forces  with  General  Paez 
who  came  west  from  Pao  to  meet  him.  On  June  21  the  Spaniards 
were  driven  back  from  their  outpost  at  Tinaquillo,  and  they  also 
retired  from  a  hill  called  Buenavista  on  the  road  from  Tinaquillo 
to  Carabobo  which  they  should  have  held  at  all  costs  as  it  com¬ 
manded  the  road  effectively.  Bolivar  had  now  about  six  thousand 

276 


BATTLE  OF  CARABOBO 


277 


men  under  his  command.  He  had  open  to  him  two  methods  of 
attack  on  Valencia,  the  direct  road  via  Buenavista  and  the  road  from 
Pao.  Both  roads  unite  on  the  plain  of  Carabobo  and  there  General 
La  Torre  in  command  of  the  Spanish  forces  placed  his  army  as  soon 
as  he  learned  of  Bolivar’s  contemplated  attack  on  Valencia. 

The  Pao  road  is  much  the  more  difficult  and  hilly  of  the  two, 
but  had  the  Spaniards  remained  in  force  at  Buenavista,  Bolivar 
would  probably  have  been  obliged  to  take  the  more  easterly  route, 
which  the  Spaniards  could  doubtless  also  have  held,  although  Bolivar 
now  had  a  slightly  superior  force.  The  country  is  very  hilly  and  so 
covered  with  trees  and  bushes  that  a  small  force,  well  posted,  could 
prevent  a  very  much  larger  force  from  making  an  advance. 

On  June  23,  1821,  Bolivar  held  a  grand  review  of  all  his  forces 

on  the  plain  of  Tinaquillo.  Early  the  next  morning  they  formed 

in  three  divisions  and  started  on  the  direct  road  to  Carabobo.  The 
first  division  was  commanded  by  General  Paez,  then  a  dashing 
young  cowboy  barely  twenty-five  years  old,  brave,  fearless,  and 
headstrong,  the  idol  of  his  fifteen  hundred  Llaneros.  In  addition 

to  his  cowboys  he  had  in  his  division  the  famous  British  Legion 

composed  of  veterans  of  the  Napoleonic  wars,  who  had  been  attracted 
to  Venezuela  by  the  glittering  promises  of  Bolivar’s  agents,  and 
whose  splendid  fighting  qualities  had  enabled  him  to  win  the  cam¬ 
paign  of  1819,  in  which  he  drove  the  Spaniards  out  of  Colombia. 

At  sunrise  on  the  twenty-fourth,  Bolivar  and  his  staff  arrived 
at  Buenavista,  where  he  was  able  to  make  out  with  a  glass  the  veteran 
troops  of  Spain  drawn  up  on  the  plains  of  Carabobo,  under  the 
command  of  General  La  Torre.  The  plains,  covered  with  grass 
and  chapparal,  extend  north  to  Valencia.  From  the  Spanish  po¬ 
sition  the  road  to  the  southwest  lay  through  the  valley  of  Naipe  to 
the  western  Llanos  and  the  Andes.  To  the  southeast  were  the  hills 
that  divide  Carabobo  from  the  northern  Llanos.  Through  a  pass 
in  these  hills  goes  the  road  to  Pao  and  the  central  Llanos. 

In  a  word,  the  royalist  position  at  Carabobo  commanded  the 
approaches  to  Valencia  and  Caracas  from  both  Western  and  Central 
Venezuela.  Bolivar’s  view  could  not  have  been  very  distinct  even 
with  a  good  glass,  as  the  plain  of  Carabobo  is  five  miles  from  Buena¬ 
vista.  Still  he  was  able  to  make  out  that  about  five  thousand  soldiers 


278 


APPENDIX  B 


were  so  placed  on  the  edge  of  the  plain  as  to  make  a  successful  frontal 
attack  very  difficult,  if  not  impossible.  The  Spaniards  had  placed 
their  artillery  in  such  a  manner  as  to  command  the  valley  through 
which  Bolivar  must  reach  the  plain.  It  was  now  too  late  for  him 
to  change  his  plans  and  by  going  east  take  the  road  from  Pao  and 
approach  the  Spaniards  on  their  left  flank.  Furthermore,  they 
could  easily  have  become  cognizant  of  such  a  movement  and  readily 
have  changed  their  front  so  as  to  make  it  even  more  difficult  for  him 
to  bring  his  forces  into  battle  array.  While  studying  the  situation,  he 
was  told  of  an  unfrequented  path  that  led  through  the  hills  to  the 
west  and  came  out  on  the  plain  a  little  to  the  rear  of  the  Spanish 
right  wing.  Although  it  was  a  narrow  and  difficult  trail  it  was, 
nevertheless,  just  what  he  needed  to  enable  him  to  break  up  the 
Spanish  formation. 

As  a  movement  along  this  path  would  take  longer  than  that  by 
the  direct  route,  the  first  division  was  hurried  ahead  under  General 
Paez  with  a  native  of  Tinaquillo  acting  as  their  guide.  The  plan 
was  for  them  to  arrive  unexpectedly  on  the  right  flank  of  the  Span¬ 
iards  just  as  Bolivar  with  the  remainder  of  the  army  reached  the 
centre.  All  the  trails  were  so  narrow  that  it  was  necessary  for  the 
men  to  march  in  single  file.  Sometimes  in  the  bed  of  a  strong  stream, 
sometimes  on  the  steep  slopes  of  a  hill,  in  tropical  jungles  and  under 
a  hot  sun,  they  made  the  best  of  their  way  over  this  rough  trail  for 
two  hours  and  a  half,  until  suddenly  they  emerged  on  a  hilltop  from 
which  they  could  see  the  great  plain  and  the  Spanish  army  drawn 
up  ready  for  battle,  two  miles  away. 

From  this  vantage  point  it  appeared  to  be  an  easy  matter  to  de¬ 
scend  the  ridge  and  attack  the  Spanish  flank.  Not  taking  the  trouble 
to  bear  more  to  the  northward  and  so  cut  off  the  Spanish  retreat  to 
Valencia,  they  charged  down  the  ridge  with  great  enthusiasm,  but 
the  distance  was  greater  than  they  had  imagined  and  it  must  have 
taken  from  twenty  to  twenty-five  minutes  before  they  could  reach 
the  edge  of  the  plain.  Here  it  seemed  as  though  they  had  fallen  into 
a  trap,  for  at  the  foot  of  the  ridge  is  a  little  valley,  so  that  when 
they  crossed  the  rivulet  that  flows  through  it  they  found  themselves 
one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  below  the  level  of  the  plain  of  Carabobo. 
In  the  meantime  the  Spaniards  had  seen  them  descending  the  two- 


BATTLE  OF  CARABOBO 


279 


mile  slope  and  had  had  time  to  change  the  position  of  both  infantry 
and  artillery  and  place  several  companies  on  the  western  edge  of  the 
plain,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  crest  of  the  hill  above  Paez.  The  cow¬ 
boys  arrived  first,  only  to  receive  such  a  galling  fire  that  their  efforts 
to  climb  the  hill  were  in  vain  and  they  soon  turned  and  lied. 

Had  Paez  known  the  lay  of  the  land  and  not  been  so  impetuous, 
he  might  have  gone  farther  north  and  coming  out  above  the  high 
bluff  have  been  able  to  attack  the  Spaniards  in  the  rear.  His  pre¬ 
cipitate  action  nearly  lost  the  battle.  In  the  meantime,  however, 
the  British  Legion  had  formed  a  hollow  square  in  the  little  valley 
between  the  bluffs  and  the  ridge  down  which  they  had  charged,  and 
in  this  formation  withstood  the  Spanish  fire  while  the  cowboy  regi¬ 
ment  was  reorganized  in  their  rear.  Having  regained  their  forma¬ 
tion  the  Llaneros  charged  up  a  slope,  more  to  the  north,  where  they 
were  partly  covered  by  bushes  and  trees,  and  gained  the  plain.  The 
Spaniards  had  exhausted  their  first  fire  on  the  hollow  square;  they 
were  now  attacked  on  their  right  and  rear  by  Paez’s  Rough  Riders. 
A  few  moments  later  Bolivar  and  the  second  and  third  divisions 
attacked  the  Spanish  front,  coming  by  the  regular  road.  They  arrived 
at  the  psychological  moment.  A  rout  commenced,  the  confusion 
increased,  and  in  half  an  hour  the  Spaniards  were  in  full  retreat  to 
Valencia,  pursued  over  the  plains  for  sixteen  miles  by  the  reckless 
cowboys  who  cut  down  the  stragglers  until  what  was  left  of  one  of 
the  Spanish  regiments  succeeded  in  taking  a  safe  position  on  the 
hills  north  of  Valencia.  Here  the  flying  royalist  soldiers  found  refuge 
and  the  pursuit  was  halted.  Most  of  the  Spaniards,  avoiding  the 
city  streets,  took  the  old  road  northwest  of  Valencia,  and  reached 
the  coast  range,  which  they  held  successfully  for  several  years.  But 
Valencia  and  the  road  to  Caracas  was  lost  and  both  cities  now  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  patriots.  All  that  now  remained  to  the  crown 
of  Spain  was  an  insignificant  strip  of  seacoast  from  which  they  were 
eventually  dislodged  and  Venezuela  was  free. 

Note. —  This  account  of  the  battle  has  been  prepared  after  a  careful  study  of 
the  topography  of  the  region.  It  does  not  agree  entirely  with  the  official  dispatches 
or  with  the  accounts  of  one  or  two  eye-witnesses,  although  it  is  of  necessity  based 
largely  on  them.  The  discrepancies  are  due  largely  to  the  character  of  the  country, 
which  have  made  it  impossible  to  adopt  in  toto  the  accounts  of  any  of  the  eye-wit¬ 


nesses. 


APPENDIX  C 


Temperature  and  Weather 

Thermometric  observations  were  taken  during  the  trip,  together 
with  occasional  weather-notes.  The  temperatures  obtained  are  not 
strictly  comparable,  owing  to  irregularity  in  the  times  of  observa¬ 
tion,  to  constant  changes  in  the  exposure  of  the  instruments  as  a 
result  of  varying  altitude,  conditions  of  travel,  and  constantly  shift¬ 
ing  geographic  position.  The  results  given  in  the  table  below  have 
been  computed  from  these  observations,  and,  while  they  therefore 
lack  scientific  accuracy,  they  may  serve  to  show  the  general  char¬ 
acter  of  the  temperatures  encountered  along  the  line  of  march.  For 
this  purpose  three  periods  of  the  day  have  been  selected  and  called 
“early  morning”  (5-7  a.m),  “midday”  (12  M.  to  3  p.m.),  and  “even¬ 
ing”  (6-8  p.m.) .  The  latest  “early  morning”  hour  is  placed  at 
7  a.m. ,  because  in  nearly  all  the  recorded  cases  a  rapid  diurnal  rise 
in  temperature  began  at  about  that  time;  “midday”  is  taken  from 
12  M.  to  3  p.m.  because  the  recorded  diurnal  maxima  occur  in  practi¬ 
cally  every  case  within  those  limits,  most  often  between  1  and  2  p.m.; 
6-8  p.m.  is  taken  as  showing  the  average  time  for  the  beginning  of 
the  sunset  fall  in  temperature  toward  the  night. 

In  cases  where  there  were  sufficient  observations  under  “early 
morning”  hours,  a  decrease  in  temperature  from  the  night  values  to 
a  minimum  occurring  usually  between  5  and  7  a.m.,  and  then  a  rise 
toward  the  coming  day,  were  sometimes  evident.  These  instances 
were  so  infrequent,  however,  that  no  trustworthy  mean  value  for 
the  early  morning  minimum  can  be  deduced.  Instead,  the  mean 
of  all  recorded  temperatures  from  5-7  a.m.  has  been  computed, 
giving  at  best  only  a  fair  approximation  of  the  conditions.  It  is 
to  be  noted  in  this  connection  that  the  maxima  and  minima  given  in 
the  table  do  not  indicate  the  true  amount  of  change  from  5  to  7  a.m., 
which  was  usually  much  less  (in  the  great  majority  of  cases  not  more 

280 


TEMPERATURE  AND  WEATHER 


281 

than  50  and  often  only  20  or  30).  The  extreme  irregularity  of  the 
observations  rendered  the  same  treatment  necessary  for  the  mid¬ 
day  and  evening  temperatures.  The  basing  of  the  results  on  the 
large  total  number  of  cases  for  the  respective  periods  (though  these 
totals  necessarily  vary  widely)  probably  gives  a  truer  idea  of  the 
average  temperatures  encountered  than  would  be  obtained  if  the 
results  were  based  on  the  much  fewer  actually  recorded  maxima  or 
minima. 

Three  fairly  distinct  “provinces”  of  temperature  along  the  line 
of  march  can  be  made  out,  the  conditions  in  each  justifying  its  sepa¬ 
ration  from  the  others.  The  first  extends  from  Carabobo  toTinaco 
(the  semi-arid  country),  the  second  from  Tinaco  to  Nunchia  (the 
northern  Llanos),  the  third  from  Nunchia  to  Duitama  (the  Cordil- 
leran  region  and  its  approaches).  The  averages  for  the  last  province 
have  not  been  computed,  for  reasons  which  will  be  apparent  from 
the  discussion  following  the  table. 


Average  Early  Morning  Temperature  (Fahrenheit) 


PROVINCE 

NO.  CASES. 

MAX.  MIN. 

MEAN. 

69.0°  53.0° 

57-3° 

J7 

Tinaco-Arauca  . 

.  26 

7 1. 50  58.0° 

66.9° 

Arauca-Nunchia . 

.  13 

76.0°  69.9° 

72.8° 

Nunchia-Duitama  .... 

MIDDAY 

(See  below) 

Carabobo-Tinaco  .  .  .  . 

.  IO 

91. o°  8  i.o° 

85-9° 

Tinaco-Nunchia  . 

.  47 

95. 2°  84.0° 

90.  o° 

Nunchia-Duitama  .  .  .  . 

EVENING 

(See  below) 

Carabobo-Tinaco  .  .  .  . 

.  20 

72. o°  62.2° 

67.3° 

Tinaco-Nunchia  . 

.  21 

85.0°  72.50 

79-5° 

Nunchia-Duitama  .  .  .  . 

(See  below) 

The  most  striking  fact  indicated  by  the  above  table  is  the  strong 
diurnal  variation  in  temperature,  a  well-known  characteristic  of 
equatorial  regions.  The  amounts  vary,  and  in  the  present  cases 


282 


APPENDIX  C 


are  probably  controlled  to  a  considerable  extent  by  geographic  factors. 
A  large  part  of  the  journey  from  Carabobo  to  Tinaco  lay  over  hills 
and  plains  which  are  semi-arid  in  character  and  hence  favour  active 
nocturnal  cooling,  relatively  low  early  morning  temperatures,  and 
a  consequent  great  diurnal  range.  Between  Tinaco  and  Nunchia, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  heavy  grass  cover  of  the  Llanos  serves  to 
prevent  this  active  cooling  and  results  in  relatively  higher  early- 
morning  temperatures,  and,  the  midday  temperatures  being  not 
very  different  from  those  of  the  same  time  of  day  in  the  hill  country 
(averaging  about  40  higher),  a  consequent  smaller  diurnal  range. 
The  general  change  in  temperature  between  the  hill  country  and 
the  Llanos  was  obviously  not  so  sudden  as  the  table  might  imply, 
though  it  was  surprisingly  sudden,  owing  to  the  rapid  change  in 
geographic  conditions.  In  both  regions  the  nocturnal  radiation 
pushes  forward  the  lowest  temperature  for  the  whole  twenty-four 
hours  into  the  period  just  before  sunrise.  The  greatest  diurnal 
range  was  recorded  at  Camp  Naipe  (Carabobo),  January  16,  when 
the  mercury  rose  from  54.70  F.  at  6.30  a.m.,  to  910  at  12.40  p.m., 
a  range  of  36.3°. 

The  weather  accompanying  this  rhythmical  variation  in  tempera¬ 
ture  was  for  the  most  part,  as  would  readily  be  inferred,  clear  or 
fair.  When  clouds  were  observed,  it  was  usually  in  the  late  forenoon 
or  early  afternoon,  and  they  had  the  typical  form  of  clouds  produced 
by  diurnal  ascending  currents,  the  cumulus. 

The  few  winds  recorded  blew  largely  from  the  northeast  quadrant, 
especially  during  the  earlier  part  of  the  trip,  beginning  usually  be¬ 
tween  6  and  7  a.m.,  increasing  rapidly  in  force  until  the  latter  part 
of  the  forenoon  and  usually  dying  out  to  uncertain  and  infrequent 
puffs  by  early  afternoon.  These  winds  appear  to  have  been  an 
extension  of  the  northeast  trades,  blowing  far  inland  under  the  con¬ 
trol  of  the  equatorial  trough  of  low  pressure,  the  barometric  equator 
running  at  this  season  a  little  north  of  the  geographic  equator  in 
South  America.  They  apparently  owed  their  diurnal  character  to 
the  convectional  ascent  of  air  under  the  influence  of  the  diurnal 
variation  in  temperature.  They  show  from  the  first  of  March  a 
change  in  average  direction  from  the  northeast  quadrant  into  the 
northwest,  and  a  preference  for  the  afternoon. 


TEMPERATURE  AND  WEATHER 


283 


No  rain  fell  during  the  first  two  months  of  the  journey.  Showers 
began  with  the  first  of  March  on  the  Llanos,  were  usually  accom¬ 
panied  by  thunder  and  lightning,  and  showed  a  distinctly  diurnal 
character,  occurring  almost  without  exception  during  the  hottest  part 
of  the  day.  Sudden  drops  in  temperature,  of  varying  amounts, 
were  sometimes  recorded  during  these  showers,  the  maximum  fall 
noted  being  120  in  fifteen  minutes  during  a  thunder-storm  on  the 
afternoon  of  March  27.  During  the  latter  part  of  March  and  early 
April  the  showers  gradually  assumed  the  character  of  rains  of  con¬ 
siderable  duration,  the  sky  was  more  often  overcast,  the  trades  little 
by  little  ceased  to  blow,  the  air  was  frequently  sultry,  —  conditions 
in  general  indicating  the  approach  of  the  belt  of  equatorial  rains 
on  its  northward  migration.  At  this  time  the  party  was  in  the  region 
of  Nunchia. 

Beyond  Nunchia,  where  the  journey  over  the  northern  Llanos 
ended  and  the  ascent  to  the  Paramo  of  Pisva  began,  the  expedition 
encountered  weather  as  unlike  that  of  the  hill  country  or  of  the  Llanos 
as  sub-arctic  weather  is  unlike  equatorial.  Between  Nunchia  and 
Pisva  the  maximum  recorded  temperature  was  76°  F.,  on  April  7. 
At  Pisva,  April  10,  9  a.m.,  the  mercury  stood  at  66°  and  reached 
a  maximum  of  only  70.8°  at  10  a.m.  During  the  early  morning  of 
April  11  it  stood  at  60.5°.  April  12,  at  6  a.m.  (5.45),  showed  55.50, 
noon  of  the  same  day  showed  56°,  6  p.m.  showed  47.50,  and  during 
the  night  occurred  the  lowest  recorded  temperature  for  the  whole 
trip,  310.  A  mean  temperature  for  April  of  30°  occurs  nowhere  in 
the  northern  hemisphere  south  of  latitude  50°  and  is  found  north¬ 
east  of  the  Scandinavian  peninsula  only  beyond  the  arctic  circle. 
Thus  the  expedition  passed  in  eight  days  through  temperature  changes 
equivalent  to  a  minimum  of  450  of  latitude,  from  a  tropical  to  a  sub¬ 
arctic  climate.  This  was  occasioned  largely  by  the  change  of  alti¬ 
tude.  The  Paramo  of  Pisva  has  a  maximum  height  of  about  thirteen 
thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  or  approximately  ten  thousand  five 
hundred  feet  above  the  Llanos. 

The  rains,  which  at  the  lower  elevation  of  the  Llanos  had  been 
warm  and  accompanied  by  sultry  conditions,  now  became  bitterly 
cold  as  the  moisture-bearing  air  was  forced  to  ascend  in  crossing 
the  mountains. 


284 


APPENDIX  C 


Beyond  the  Paramo,  conditions  changed  for  the  better,  though 
the  temperatures,  as  far  as  Duitama,  seldom  went  above  6o°.  This, 
doubtless,  was  partly  the  result  of  the  nine  thousand  feet  altitude 
at  which  this  part  of  the  journey  lay.  No  record  of  temperature  or 
weather  was  kept  beyond  Duitama. 


INDEX 


PAGE 

Acarigua  .  50 

Achaguas .  83 

Agua  Blanca .  49 

Algarobo  .  88 

Amparo .  101 

Andes  of  Cocui .  159 

Trip  over .  186 

Angostura,  Congress  of .  269 

Painting  of  .  8 

Ants,  roadways . 47,  65 

Aparicion .  53 

Apure  River . 82,  89 

Araguatos,  howling  monkeys . 38,  173 

Arauca .  109 

Araure,  Battle  of  .  51 

Arenas,  D.  Sylvestre  .  1 7 1 

Ariporo  River .  158 

Armadillos .  93 

Ayacucho,  Painting  of  Battle  of.  .  .  .  9 

Banco .  262 

Barinas  .  67 

Barrancas  .  66 

Barranquilla .  265 

Bathing,  Custom  of  .  178 

Bingham,  Dr.  Hiram,  Picture  of  .  .  .  230 

Birds  . 58,  87.  *22,  127,  135,  153 

Egrets . 82,  104 

Jabiru  . 72,81 

King  Samurs .  86 

Boca  Suripa  .  82 

Bocono  River  .  64 

Bogota,  City  of .  231 

Bolivar 

Portraits  . 8,  267 

Grave  of  .  14 

Headquarters  at  Casa  de  Bonza.  .  212 
Headquarters  at  Guanare .  60 


PAGE 


Bolivar 

Headquarters  at  Socha  Viejo  ....  205 

Boyaca,  Battle  of . 220,  274 

Painting  of  .  9 

Briceno,  D.  Rafael .  97 

Brisson,  Jorge .  147 

Bull-fight  at  Caracas .  16 

Cajigal  Observatory,  Caracas .  18 

Cana  Flores .  100 

Canagua  River .  77 

Cano  Guata  .  139 

Cano  Muato .  175 

Caparro  River .  83 

Capriles,  Dr.  Isaac .  vi 

Capuchins  at  Caracas .  23 

Capybaras  or  chiguires  .  .  .  .117,  121,  122 
Carabobo 

Battle  of .  276 

Painting  of  .  9 

Plains  of  .  31 

Caracas  .  3 

National  Museum  .  13 

University  of .  12 

Caribe,  Cannibal  fish  .  139 

Carigua  River .  53 

Cartagena  .  267 

Casanare .  148 

Castro,  President 

Illness  of  .  15 

Portrait  of .  11 

Villa  of .  6 

Chire  .  135 

Chirgua  River .  37 

Chocolate  . 22,  112 

Choconta .  223 

Club  Concordia,  Caracas  .  17 

Cojedes  River .  48 

285 


286 


INDEX 


PAGE 

Concerts 

Barinas  .  68 

Bogota .  244 

Caracas  .  21 

Corozal  .  153 

Corral  de  Bonza .  212 

Corral  Falzo  de  Paez .  75 

Corrales .  207 

Cotton  spinning,  Method  of .  195 

Currency . 29,  112,  154,  237,  165 

Desecho  Ranch  .  174 

Duitama  .  21 1 

Ele  River .  129 

Food . 33,  57,  77,  95,  123,  144 

Chocolate .  22 

Gofio  .  87 

Majule .  175 

Soup  . 191,  209,  217 

Funeral  Customs  .  240 

Gabaldon,  Dr .  83 

Gambling  . 17,  164 

Gamboa,  Colonel  .  109 

Gamelotal .  96 

Games . 103,  225 

Bowling  .  69 

Gonzalez  Alvarez,  D.  Miguel  .  .161,  168 

Gregory,  Prof.  Herbert  E .  vi 

Grenadillo .  94 

Guamita  .  39 

Guanare .  59 

Guaratarito .  119 

Guasdualito .  98 

Guerrera,  General,  Ranch  of .  94 

Heimke,  Major  William . vi,  232 

Honda  .  257 

Hospitals  at  Caracas .  15 

Iguanas  .  92 

Independence 

Declaration  of .  10 

Hall  .  10 

Painting  of  .  . .  10 

Temple  of .  79 

Irrigation .  79 


PAGE 

La  Calzada .  yg 

La  Doraaa  .  257 

La  Gloria  .  262 

La  Guayra  .  x 

Laguna  Seca .  202 

La  Tigra .  88 

Las  Quebradas .  199 

Las  Queseras  del  Medio .  97 

Landaeta  Rosales,  Gen.  Manuel.  ...  14 

Levar,  Jose  Antonio . 161,  167 


Libraries  at  Caracas  .  14 

Limbo  . 

Llanero  characteristics . 94,  115 

Lotteries 

at  Bogota .  248 

at  Caracas .  17 


McGregor,  Gregory 

Portrait  of  .  9 

Magdalena  River .  250 

Map  Commission,  Caracas .  19 

Matos,  General .  j 

Michelena 

Painting  by .  18 

Monagas 

Grave  of  .  14 

Morcote .  183 

Moreno  .  159 

Nemocon  .  228 

Nunchia .  177 

O’Leary,  General 

Grave  of  .  14 

Orchids . 180,  188 

Ospino .  56 

Paez,  General . 79,  277 

Corral  Falzo  of .  75 

Grave  of  .  14 

Portrait  of .  9 

Paguei  River .  73 

Paipa .  216 

Palmarito .  89 

Pantano  de  Vargas,  Battle  of  .  .  .213,  272 

Parada  Leal,  D.  Francisco .  76 

Paramo  of  Pisva .  197 


INDEX 


287 


PAGE 

Paul,  Dr.  Jose  Jesus  .  7 

Pauta  River .  173 

Paya . 1S9,  271 

Paz,  General  Narcisso .  94 

Perez,  General . in,  142 

Periquera .  106 

Phelps,  William  .  vi 

Pisva  .  192 

Pombo,  Sr.  Jorge . vi,  248 

Pore,  Fair  at .  161 

Portuguesa,  Jungle  of  river  .  57 

Prieto  Villate,  D.  Elias  .  213 

Puerto  San  Salvador  .  148 

Puerto  Wilches  .  261 

Railroads . 6,  26,  228,  251,  259,  261 

Rangel,  D.  Fernando .  96 

Reves,  President  Rafael  .  .  .  .vi,  161,  244 

Explorations  of  .  245 

Rice,  Dr.  Hamilton . v,  1 

Root,  Senator  Elihu .  vi 

Sabaneta  .  64 

San  Carlos .  42 

San  Ignacio .  148 

Sanjon .  155 

San  Jose  .  44 

San  Martin,  General 

Portrait  of  .  9 

San  Sylvestre .  74 

Santander,  General  . 190,  247,  270 

Santo  Domingo  River .  67 

Schools . 27,  69,  185,  209 

Silkworms .  19 

Sleeper,  Jacob  . 1,  7 

Snakes . 23,  56,  135,  185,  254,  255 

Socha  Nueva .  202 

Sogamoso  River .  201 

Sogamoso,  Attack  upon .  271 

Stel ling,  D.  Carlos . vi,  28,  32 

Stronge,  Francis .  vi 


PAGE 

Sucre,  General. 

Death  of  .  14 

Portrait  of  .  9 

Standard  of .  11 

Sugar-making  .  .  .19,  45,  80,  99,  192,  196 

Suripa  River .  82 

Theatres 

Bogota .  245 

National  Theatre,  Caracas .  21 

Valencia .  27 

Tinaco  .  40 

Tinaquillo .  37 

Battle  of .  276 

Tobacco  paste .  51 

Tocaria  River .  177 

Tocupido .  62 

Tocuyito,  Battle  of .  31 

Totomal .  74 

Totumilo  River .  141 

Tovacar  .  195 

Tunja .  218 

Universities 

Caracas .  12 

Guanare .  59 

Valencia .  27 

Urgueto,  Dr .  18 

Valencia .  26 

Valle .  6 

Vallee,  General .  107 

Voghera,  Father . 27,  97 

Wax  Industry . 193,  195 

Winship,  George  Parker .  vi 

Women,  position  of,  22,  115,  186,  236,  246 

Yaruros  Indians  ....119,  128,  131,  133 

Zipaquira .  229 


The  Plimpton  Press  Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


CARACAS  TO  BOGOTA. 

Bingham. 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Sketch  Map 
showing'  the  route 
of 

PROF.  HIRAM  BINGHAM 

from 

CARACAS  to  BOGOTA 

1907 

Scale  1: 3,000,000 orl  luch  -  ‘VI '35  Stiil.Milcii 


Buj-quisiinot  < 


\staJtos 


Chupjuuiiura 1 


E  C  UAD  O  il; 


Scale  12B.OOO, 000  or lli.cli  -394Sta*  Mis 


SffSpK 


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mmmm 


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VtiXL'-.it.sJn 


